OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


INTO   THE    PRIMITIVE 


BY  MR.  BENNET 


FOR  THE  WHITE  CHRIST.  A  Story 
of  the  Days  of  Charlemagne.  Illustrations 
in  full  color  by  the  Kinneys.  Twentieth 
thousand.  $1.50. 


A.  C.  McCLURo  &  Co.,  PUBLISHERS 


IT  CAN'T  BE  THAT  You  WANT  TO  Go  BACK  TO  AI.I.  THOSE  SOCIETY  SHAMS, 

AFTER  YOU'VE  SEEN  REAL  LIKE!" 
if,  the  Primitive  [Page  293] 


INTO 
THE  PRIMITIVE 

By  ROBERT  AMES  BENNET 


AUTHOR    OF 

"For  the  White  Christ,"  "Thyra,"  Etc. 


With  Frontispiece  in   Colors 
By  ALLEN  T.   TR  UE 


A.  L.  BURT    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


COPTMGHT 

A.  C.  MCCLUEO  &  Co. 
1908 


Published  April  11,  1908 
Second  Edition,  May  9,  1908 
Third  Edition,  Aug.  1,  1908 


To  the  man  and  to  the  beast; 
To  the  girl,  the  snake,  the  blossom; 

To  fever  and  fire  and  fear  ; 
To  hurricane  blast  and  storm  within; 

To  bloody  fang  and  venomed  tooth; 
To  love,  to  hate,  to  pain,  to  joy,  — 
For  of  such  is  Life, 

In  the  Primitive  —  and  out. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.  WAVE-TOSSED  AND  CASTAWAY    ....  11 

II.  WORSE  THAN  WILDERNESS 18 

III.  THE  WORTH  OF  FIRE 29 

IV.  A  JOURNEY  IN  DESOLATION 40 

V.  THE  KE-ASCENT  OF  MAN 56 

VI.  MAN  AND  GENTLEMAN 67 

VII.  AROUND  THE  HEADLAND 76 

VIII.  THE  CLUB  AGE 87 

IX.  THE  LEOPARDS'  DEN 105 

X.  PROBLEMS  IN  WOODCRAFT 128 

XI.  A  DESPOILED  WARDROBE 139 

XII.  SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST 147 

XIIL  THE  MARK  OF  THE  BEAST 159 

XIV.  FEVER  AND  FIRE  AND  FEAR 174 

XV.  WITH  Bow  AND  CLUB 191 

XVI.  THE  SAVAGE  MANIFEST 201 

XVII.  THE  SERPENT  STRIKES 212 

XVIII.  THE  EAVESDROPPER  CAUGHT 226 

[vii] 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.    AN  OMINOUS  LULL 235 

XX.    THE  HURRICANE  BLAST 251 

XXL    WRECKAGE  AND  SALVAGE 263 

XXII.    UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING  272 

XXIII.  THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD 284 

XXIV.  A  LION  LEADS  THEM 299 

XXV.    IN  DOUBLE  SALVATION  314 


[Tin] 


INTO  THE  PRIMITIVE 

CHAPTER    I 
WAVE -TOSSED  AND   CASTAWAY 

THE  beginning  was  at  Cape  Town,  when 
Blake  and  Winthrope  boarded  the  steamer 
as  fellow  passengers  with  Lady  Bayrose 
and  her  party. 

This  was  a  week  after  Winthrope  had  arrived 
on  the  tramp  steamer  from  India,  and  her  Lady 
ship  had  explained  to  Miss  Leslie  that  it  was  as 
well  for  her  not  to  be  too  hasty  in  accepting  his 
attentions.  To  be  sure,  he  was  an  Englishman, 
his  dress  and  manners  were  irreproachable,  and 
he  was  in  the  prime  of  ripened  youth.  Yet  Lady 
Bayrose  was  too  conscientious  a  chaperon  to  be 
fully  satisfied  with  her  countryman's  bare  asser 
tion  that  he  was  engaged  on  a  diplomatic  mission 
requiring  reticence  regarding  his  identity.  She 
did  not  see  why  this  should  prevent  him  from 
confiding  in  her. 

Notwithstanding  this,  Winthrope  came  aboard 
ship  virtually  as  a  member  of  her  Ladyship's 
party.  He  was  so  quick,  so  thoughtful  of  her 

[HI 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

comfort,  and  paid  so  much  more  attention  to  her 
than  to  Miss  Leslie,  that  her  Ladyship  had  de 
cided  to  tolerate  him,  even  before  Blake  became 
a  factor  in  the  situation. 

From  the  moment  he  crossed  the  gangway  the 
American  engineer  entered  upon  a  daily  routine 
of  drinking  and  gambling,  varied  only  by  at 
tempts  to  strike  up  an  off-hand  acquaintance  with 
Miss  Leslie.  This  was  Winthrope's  opportunity, 
and  his  clever  frustration  of  what  Lady  Bayrose 
termed  "that  low  bounder's  impudence"  served 
to  install  him  in  the  good  graces  of  her  Ladyship 
as  well  as  in  the  favor  of  the  American  heiress. 

Such,  at  least,  was  what  Winthrope  intimated 
to  the  persistent  engineer  with  a  superciliousness 
of  tone  and  manner  that  would  have  stung  even 
a  British  lackey  to  resentment.  To  Blake  it  was 
supremely  galling.  He  could  not  rejoin  in  kind, 
and  the  slightest  attempt  at  physical  retort  would 
have  meant  irons  and  confinement.  It  was  a  Brit 
ish  ship.  Behind  Winthrope  was  Lady  Bayrose  ; 
behind  her  Ladyship,  as  a  matter  of  course,  was  all 
the  despotic  authority  of  the  captain.  In  the  cir 
cumstances,  it  was  not  surprising  that  the  American 
drank  heavier  after  each  successive  goading. 

Meantime  the  ship,  having  touched  at  Port 
Natal,  steamed  on  up  the  East  Coast,  into  the 
Mozambique  Channel. 

[1*] 


WAVE-TOSSED     AND     CASTAWAY 

On  the  day  of  the  cyclone,  Blake  had  with 
drawn  into  his  stateroom  with  a  number  of 
bottles,  and  throughout  that  fearful  afternoon 
was  blissfully  unconscious  of  the  danger.  Even 
when  the  steamer  went  on  the  reef,  he  was  only 
partially  roused  by  the  shock. 

He  took  a  long  pull  from  a  quart  flask  of 
whiskey,  placed  the  flask  with  great  care  in  his 
hip  pocket,  and  lurched  out  through  the  open 
doorway.  There  he  reeled  headlong  against  the 
mate,  who  had  rushed  below  with  three  of  the 
crew  to  bring  up  Miss  Leslie.  The  mate  cursed 
him  virulently,  and  in  the  same  breath  ordered 
two  of  the  men  to  fetch  him  up  on  deck. 

The  sea  was  breaking  over  the  steamer  in  tor 
rents  ;  but  between  waves  Blake  was  dragged 
across  to  the  side  and  flung  over  into  the  bottom 
of  the  one  remaining  boat.  He  served  as  a 
cushion  to  break  the  fall  of  Miss  Leslie,  who  was 
tossed  in  after  him.  At  the  same  time,  Win- 
thrope,  frantic  with  fear,  scrambled  into  the  bows 
and  cut  loose.  One  of  the  sailors  leaped,  but  fell 
short  and  went  down  within  arm's  length  of  Miss 
Leslie. 

She  and  Winthrope  saw  the  steamer  slip  from 
the  reef  and  sink  back  into  deep  water,  carrying 
down  in  the  vortex  the  mate  and  the  few  remain 
ing  sailors.  After  that  all  was  chaos  to  them. 

[13] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

They  were  driven  ashore  before  the  terrific  gusta 
of  the  cyclone,  blinded  by  the  stinging  spoondrift 
to  all  else  but  the  hell  of  breakers  and  coral  reefs 
in  whose  midst  they  swirled  so  dizzily.  And 
through  it  all  Blake  lay  huddled  on  the  bottom 
boards,  gurgling  blithely  of  spicy  zephyrs  and 
swaying  hammocks. 

There  came  the  seemingly  final  moment  when 
the  boat  went  spinning  stern  over  prow 

Half  sobered,  Blake  opened  his  eyes  and  stared 
solemnly  about  him.  He  was  given  little  time  to 
take  his  bearings.  A  smother  of  broken  surf 
came  seething  up  from  one  of  the  great  breakers, 
to  roll  him  over  and  scrape  him  a  little  farther  up 
the  muddy  shore.  There  the  flood  deposited  him 
for  a  moment,  until  it  could  gather  force  to  sweep 
back  and  drag  him  down  again  toward  the  roaring 
sea  that  had  cast  him  up. 

Blake  objected,  —  not  to  the  danger  of  being 
drowned,  but  to  interference  with  his  repose.  He 
had  reached  the  obstinate  stage.  He  grunted  a 

protest Again  the  flood  seethed  up  the 

shore,  and  rolled  him  away  from  the  danger. 
This  was  too  much  !  He  set  his  jaw,  turned  over, 
and  staggered  to  his  feet.  Instantly  one  of  the 
terrific  wind-blasts  struck  his  broad  back  and 
sent  him  spinning  for  yards.  He  brought  up  in 
a  shallow  pool,  beside  a  hummock. 

[14] 


WAVE-TOSSED     AND     CASTAWAY 

Under  the  lee  of  the  knoll  lay  Winthrope  and 
Miss  Leslie.  Though  conscious,  both  were  drag 
gled  and  bruised  and  beaten  to  exhaustion. 
They  were  together  because  they  had  come 
ashore  together.  When  the  boat  capsized,  Miss 
Leslie  had  been  flung  against  the  Englishman, 
and  they  had  held  fast  to  each  other  with  the 
desperate  clutch  of  drowning  persons.  Neither 
of  them  ever  recalled  how  they  gained  the  shelter 
of  the  hummock. 

Blake,  sitting  waist-deep  in  the  pool,  blinked  at 
them  benignly  with  his  pale  blue  eyes,  and  pro 
duced  the  quart  flask,  still  a  third  full  of  whiskey- 

"  I  shay,  fren's,"  he  observed,  "  ha'  one  on  me. 
Won'  cos'  you  shent  —  notta  re'  shent !  " 

"You  fuddled  lout!"  shouted  Winthrope. 
"  Come  out  of  that  pool." 

"  Wassama  'er  pool  ?     Pool 's  allri' ! " 

The  Englishman  squinted  through  the  driving 
scud  at  the  intoxicated  man  with  an  anxious 
frown.  In  all  probability  he  felt  no  commisera 
tion  for  the  American ;  but  it  was  no  light  matter 
to  be  flung  up  barehanded  on  the  most  unhealth- 
ful  and  savage  stretch  of  the  Mozambique  coast, 
and  Blake  might  be  able  to  help  them  out  of 
their  predicament.  To  leave  him  in  the  pool  was 
therefore  not  to  be  thought  of.  So  soon  as  he 
had  drained  his  bottle,  he  would  lie  down,  and 

[15] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

that  would  be  the  end  of  him.  As  any  attempt 
to  move  him  forcibly  was  out  of  the  question, 
the  situation  demanded  that  Winthrope  justify 
his  intimations  of  diplomatic  training.  After  con 
sidering  the  problem  for  several  minutes,  he  met 
it  in  a  way  that  proved  he  was  at  least  not  lack 
ing  in  shrewdness  and  tact. 

"See  here,  Blake,"  he  called,  in  another  lull 
between  the  shrieking  gusts,  "the  lady  is  fa 
tigued.  You  're  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  ask 
her  to  come  over  there." 

It  required  some  moments  for  this  to  penetrate 
Blake's  fuddled  brain.  After  a  futile  attempt  to 
gain  his  feet,  he  crawled  out  of  the  pool  on  all 
fours,  and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  pressed  his  flask 
upon  Miss  Leslie.  She  shrank  away  from  him, 
shuddering,  and  drew  herself  up  in  a  huddle  of 
flaccid  limbs  and  limp  garments.  Winthrope, 
however,  not  only  accepted  the  flask,  but  came 
near  to  draining  it. 

Blake  squinted  at  the  diminished  contents, 
hesitated,  and  cast  a  glance  of  maudlin  gallantry 
at  Miss  Leslie.  She  lay  coiled,  closer  than  before, 
in  a  draggled  heap.  Her  posture  suggested  sleep. 
Blake  stared  at  her,  the  flask  extended  waveriugly 
before  him.  Then  he  brought  it  to  his  lips,  and 
drained  out  the  last  drop. 

"  Time  turn  in,"  he  mumbled,  and  sprawled 
[16] 


WAVE-TOSSED     AND     CASTAWAY 

full  length  in  the  brackish  ooze.  Immediately 
he  fell  into  a  drunken  stupor. 

Winthrope,  invigorated  by  the  liquor,  rose  to 
his  knees,  and  peered  around.  It  was  impossible 
to  face  the  scud  and  spoondrift  from  the  furious 
sea;  but  to  leeward  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
marsh  flooded  with  salt  water,  its  reedy  vegeta 
tion  beaten  flat  by  the  storm.  He  himself  was 
beaten  down  by  a  terrific  gust.  Panting  and 
trembling,  he  waited  for  the  wind  to  lull,  in  hope 
that  he  might  obtain  a  clearer  view  of  his  sur 
roundings.  Before  he  again  dared  rise  to  his 
feet,  darkness  swept  down  with  tropical  sudden 
ness  and  blurred  out  everything. 

The  effect  of  the  whiskey  soon  passed,  and  Win 
thrope  huddled  between  his  companions,  drenched 
and  exhausted.  Though  he  could  hear  Miss  Les 
lie  moaning,  he  was  too  miserable  himself  to 
inquire  whether  he  could  do  anything  for  her. 

Presently  he  became  aware  that  the  wind  was 
falling.  The  centre  of  the  cyclone  had  passed 
before  the  ship  struck,  and  they  were  now  in  the 
outermost  circle  of  the  vast  whirlwind.  With 
the  consciousness  of  this  change  for  the  better, 
Winthrope's  fear-racked  nerves  relaxed,  and  he 
fell  into  a  heavy  sleep. 


[17] 


CHAPTER  II 
WORSE  THAN   WILDERNESS 

A  WAIL  from  Miss  Leslie  roused  the  Eng 
lishman  out  of  a  dream  in  which  he  had 
been  swimming  for  life  across  a  sea  of 
boiling  oil.  He  sat  up  and  gazed  about  him, 
half  dazed.  The  cyclone  had  been  followed  by 
a  dead  calm,  and  the  sun,  already  well  above  the 
horizon,  was  blazing  upon  them  over  the  glassy 
surfaces  of  the  dying  swells  with  fierce  heat. 

Winthrope  felt  about  for  his  hat.  It  had  been 
blown  off  when,  at  the  striking  of  the  steamer, 
he  had  rushed  up  on  deck.  As  he  remembered, 
he  straightened,  and  looked  at  his  companions. 
Blake  lay  snoring  where  he  had  first  outstretched 
himself,  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  just  —  and  of 
the  drunkard.  The  girl,  however,  was  already 
awake.  She  sat  with  her  hands  clasped  in  her  lap, 
while  the  tears  rolled  slowly  down  her  cheeks. 

"  My  —  ah  —  dear  Miss  Genevieve,  what  is  the 
matter  ?  "  exclaimed  Winthrope. 

"Matter?  Do  you  ask,  when  we  are  here  on 
this  wretched  coast,  and  may  not  get  away  for 
weeks  ?  Oh,  I  did  so  count  on  the  London  season 

[18] 


WORSE    THAN     WILDERNESS 

this  year !     Lady  Bayrose  promised  that  I  should 
be  among  those  presented." 

"Well,  I  —  ah  —  fancy,  Lady  Bayrose  will  do 
no  more  presenting  —  unless  it  may  be  to  the 
heavenly  choir,  you  know." 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Winthrope? 
You  told  me  that  she  and  the  maids  had  been  put 
in  the  largest  boat  —  " 

"  My  dear  Miss  Genevieve,  you  must  remember 
that  I  am  a  diplomat.  It  was  all  quite  sufficiently 
harrowing,  I  assure  you.  They  were,  indeed, 
put  into  the  largest  boat  —  Beastly  muddle !  — 
While  they  waited  for  the  mate  to  fetch  you, 
the  boat  was  crushed  alongside,  and  all  in  it 
drowned." 

"  Drowned !  —  drowned !  Oh,  dear  Lady  Bay- 
rose  !  And  she  'd  travelled  so  much  —  oh,  oh, 
it  is  horrible !  Why  did  she  persuade  me  to 
visit  the  Cape?  It  was  only  to  be  with  her  — 
And  then  for  us  to  start  off  for  India,  when  we 
might  have  sailed  straight  to  England !  Oh,  it 
is  horrible !  horrible  !  And  my  maid,  and  all  — 
It  cannot  be  possible ! " 

11  Pray,  do  not  excite  yourself,  my  dear  Miss 
Genevieve.     Their  troubles  are  all  over.     Er  — 
Gawd  has  taken  them  to  Him,  you  know." 

"  But  the  pity  of  it !  To  be  drowned  —  so  far 
from  home !  " 

[19] 


INTO    jjfHE    PRIMITIVE 

"  Ah,  if  that  's  all  you  're  worrying  about !  —  I 
must  say  I  'd  like  to  know  how  we  '11  get  a  snack 
for  breakfast.  I  'm  hungry  as  a  —  er — groom." 

"  Eating !  How  can  you  think  of  eating,  Mr. 
Winthrope —  and  all  the  others  drowned1?  This 
sun  is  becoming  dreadfully  hot.  It  is  unbearable  ! 
Can  you  not  put  up  some  kind  of  an  awning  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  I  must  say,  I  was  never  much  of 
a  hand  at  such  things,  and  really  I  can't  imagine 
what  one  could  rig  up.  There  might  have  been 
a  bit  of  sail  in  the  boat,  but  one  can't  see  a  sign 
of  it.  I  fancy  it  was  smashed." 

Miss  Leslie  ventured  a  glance  at  Blake.  Though 
still  lying  as  he  had  sprawled  in  his  drunkenness, 
there  was  a  comforting  suggestion  of  power  in 
his  broad  shoulders  and  square  jaw. 

"  Is  he  still  —  in  that  condition  I " 

"  Must  have  slept  it  off  by  this  time,  and  there 's 
no  more  in  the  flask,"  answered  Winthrope. 
Reaching  over  with  his  foot,  he  pushed  against 
Blake's  back. 

"  Huh !  All  right,"  grunted  the  sleeper,  and 
sat  up,  as  had  Winthrope,  half  dazed.  Then  he 
stared  around  him,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  "  Well, 
what  in  hell !  Say,  this  is  damn  cheerful ! " 

"  I  fancy  we  are  in  a  nasty  fix.  But  I  say,  my 
man,  there  is  a  woman  present,  and  your  language, 
you  know  —  " 


WORSE    THAN     WILDERNESS 

Blake  turned  and  fixed  the  Englishman  with  a 
cold  stare. 

"Look  here,  you  bloomin'  hid,"  he  said,  "there 's 
just  one  thing  you  're  going  to  understand,  right 
here  and  now.  I  'm  not  your  man,  and  we  're 
not  going  to  have  any  of  that  kind  of  hlatter. 
Any  fool  can  see  we  're  in  a  tight  hole,  and  we  're 
like  to  keep  company  for  a  while  —  probably 
long  as  we  last." 

"  What  —  ah  —  may  I  ask,  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

Blake  laughed  harshly,  and  pointed  from  the 
reef-strewn  sea  to  the  vast  stretches  of  desolate 
marsh.  Far  inland,  across  miles  of  brackish  la 
goons  and  reedy  mud-flats,  could  be  seen  groups 
of  scrubby,  half-leafless  trees ;  ten  or  twelve 
miles  to  the  southward  a  rocky  headland  jutted 
out  into  the  water ;  otherwise  there  was  nothing 
in  sight  but  sea  and  swamp.  If  it  could  not 
properly  be  termed  a  sea-view,  it  was  at  least  a 
very  wet  landscape. 

"Fine prospect, "remarked Blake, dryly.  "We'll 
be  in  luck  if  the  fever  don't  get  the  last  of  us  in 
side  a  month ;  and  as  for  you  two,  you  'd  have  as 
much  show  of  lasting  a  month  as  a  toad  with  a 
rattlesnake,  if  it  was  n't  for  Tom  Blake,  —  that 's 
my  name  —  Tom  Blake,  —  and  as  long  as  this 
shindy  lasts,  you  're  welcome  to  call  me  Tom  or 

[21] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Blake,  whichever  suits.  But  understand,  we're 
not  going  to  have  any  more  of  your  bloody, 
bloomin'  English  condescension.  Aboard  ship 
you  had  the  drop  on  me,  and  could  pile  on  dog 
till  the  cows  came  home.  Here  I'm  Blake,  and 
you're  Winthrope." 

"  Believe  me,  Mr.  Blake,  I  quite  appreciate  the 
—  ah  —  situation.  And  now,  I  fancy  that,  in 
stead  of  wasting  time  —  " 

"It's  about  time  you  introduced  me  to  the 
lady,"  interrupted  Blake,  and  he  stared  at  them 
half  defiantly,  yet  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

Miss  Leslie  flushed.  Winthrope  swore  softly, 
and  bit  his  lip.  Aboard  ship,  backed  by  Lady 
Bayrose  and  the  captain,  he  had  goaded  the 
American  at  pleasure.  Now,  however,  the  situa 
tion  was  reversed.  Both  title  and  authority  had 
been  swept  away  by  the  storm,  and  he  was  left  to 
shift  for  himself  against  the  man  who  had  every 
reason  to  hate  him  for  his  overbearing  insolence. 
Worse  still,  both  he  and  Miss  Leslie  were  now 
dependent  upon  the  American,  in  all  probability 
for  life  itself.  It  was  a  bitter  pill  and  hard  to 
swallow. 

Blake  was  not  slow  to  observe  the  English 
man's  hesitancy.  He  grinned. 

11  Every  dog  has  his  day,  and  I  guess  this  is 
mine,"  he  said.  "Take  your  time,  if  it  comes 

[22] 


WORSE    THAN     WILDERNESS 

hard.  I  can  imagine  it's  a  pretty  stiff  dose  for 
your  ludship.  But  why  in  —  why  in  frozen 
hades  an  American  lady  should  object  to  an 
introduction  to  a  countryman  who  's  going  to  do 
Ms  level  best  to  save  her  pretty  little  self  from 
the  hyenas  —  well,  it  beats  me." 

Winthrope  flushed  redder  than  the  girl. 

"Miss  Leslie,  Mr.  Blake,"  he  murmured,  hop 
ing  to  put  an  end  to  the  situation. 

But  yet  Blake  persisted.  He  bowed,  openly 
exultant. 

"  You  see,  Miss,"  he  said,  "  I  know  the  correct 
thing  quite  as  much  as  your  swells.  I  knew  all 
along  you  were  Jenny  Leslie.  I  ran  a  survey 
for  your  dear  papa  when  he  was  manipulating 
the  Q.  T.  Railroad,  and  he  did  me  out  of  my 
pay." 

"  Oh,  but  Mr.  Blake,  I  am  sure  it  must  be  a 
mistake ;  I  am  sure  that  if  it  is  explained  to 
papa  - 

"  Yes ;  we  '11  cable  papa  to-night.  Meantime, 
we've  something  else  to  do.  Suppose  you  two 
get  a  hustle  on  yourselves,  and  scrape  up  some 
thing  to  eat.  I  'in  going  out  to  see  what 's  left  of 
that  blamed  old  tub." 

"  Surely  you  '11  not  venture  to  swim  out  so 
far ! "  protested  Winthrope.  "  I  saw  the  steamer 
sink  as  we  cast  off." 

[23] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Looks  like  a  mast  sticking  up  out  there.  May. 
be  some  of  the  rigging  is  loose." 

"  But  the  sharks !  These  waters  swarm  with 
the  vile  creatures.  You  must  not  risk  your  life !  " 

"'Cause  why?  If  I  do,  the  babes  in  the 
woods  will  be  left  without  even  the  robins  to 
cover  them,  poor  tilings  !  But  cheer  up ! — maybe 
the  mud-hens  will  do  it  with  lovely  water-lilies." 

"  Please,  Mr.  Blake,  do  not  be  so  cruel ! " 
sobbed  Miss  Leslie,  her  tears  starting  afresh. 
"  The  sun  makes  my  head  ache  dreadfully,  and 
I  have  no  hat  or  shade,  and  I'm  becoming  so 
thirsty ! " 

"  And  you  think  you  've  only  to  wait,  and  half 
a  dozen  stewards  will  come  running  with  parasols 
and  ice  water.  Neither  you  nor  Winthrope  seem 
to  've  got  your  eyes  open.  Just  suppose  you  get 
busy  and  do  something.  Winthrope,  chase  your 
self  over  the  mud,  and  get  together  a  mess  of  fish 
that  are  not  too  dead.  Must  be  dozens,  after  the 
blow.  As  for  you,  Miss  Jenny,  I  guess  you  can 
pick  up  some  reeds,  and  rig  a  headgear  out  of 
this  handkerchief —  Wait  a  moment.  Put  on 
my  coat,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  broiled  alive 
through  the  holes  of  that  peek-a-boo." 

"  But  I  say,  Blake  —  "  began  Winthrope. 

"  Don't  say  —  do  !  "  rejoined  Blake ;  and  he 
started  down  the  muddy  shore. 

[24] 


WORSE    THAN    WILDERNESS 

Though  the  tide  was  at  flood,  there  was  now 
no  cyclone  to  drive  the  sea  above  the  beach,  and 
Blake  walked  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  he 
reached  the  water's  edge.  There  was  little  surf, 
and  he  paused  only  a  few  moments  to  peer  out 
across  the  low  swells  before  he  commenced  to 
strip. 

Winthrope  and  Miss  Leslie  had  been  watching 
his  movements  ;  now  the  girl  rose  in  a  little  flurry 
of  haste,  and  set  to  gathering  reeds.  Winthrope 
would  have  spoken,  but,  seeing  her  embarrass 
ment,  smiled  to  himself,  and  began  strolling 
about  in  search  of  fish. 

It  was  no  difficult  search.  The  marshy  ground 
was  strewn  with  dead  sea-creatures,  many  of 
which  were  already  shrivelling  arid  drying  in  the 
sun.  Some  of  the  fish  had  a  familiar  look,  and 
Winthrope  turned  them  over  with  the  tip  of  his 
shoe.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  stoop  to  pick  up 
a  large  mullet ;  but  shrank  back,  repulsed  by  its 
stiffness  and  the  unnatural  shape  into  which  the 
sun  was  warping  it. 

He  found  himself  near  the  beach,  and  stood  for 
half  an  hour  or  more  watching  the  black  dot  far 
out  in  the  water,  —  all  that  was  to  be  seen  of 
Blake.  The  American,  after  wading  off-shore 
another  quarter  of  a  mile,  had  reached  swimming 
depth,  and  was  heading  out  among  the  reefs  with 

[25] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

steady,  vigorous  strokes.  Half  a  mile  or  so 
beyond  him  Winthrope  could  now  make  out  the 
goal  for  which  he  was  aiming,  —  the  one  remain 
ing  topmast  of  the  steamer. 

"  By  Jove,  these  waters  are  full  of  sharks ! " 
murmured  Winthrope,  staring  at  the  steadily  re 
ceding  dot  until  it  disappeared  behind  the  wall  of 
surf  which  spumed  up  over  one  of  the  outer 
reefs. 

A  call  from  Miss  Leslie  interrupted  his  watch, 
and  he  hastened  to  rejoin  her.  After  several 
failures,  she  had  contrived  to  knot  Blake's  hand 
kerchief  to  three  or  four  reeds  in  the  form  of  a 
little  sunshade.  Her  shoulders  were  protected 
by  Blake's  coat.  It  made  a  heavy  wrap,  but  it 
shut  out  the  blistering  sun-rays,  which,  as  Blake 
had  foreseen,  had  quickly  begun  to  burn  the 
girl's  delicate  skin  through  her  open-work  bodice. 

Thus  protected,  she  was  fairly  safe  from  the 
sun.  But  the  sun  was  by  no  means  the  worst 
feature  of  the  situation.  While  Winthrope  was 
yet  several  yards  distant,  the  girl  began  to  com 
plain  to  him.  "  I  'm  so  thirsty,  Mr.  Winthrope  ! 
Where  is  there  any  water?  Please  get  me  a 
drink  at  once,  Mr.  Winthrope  ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Leslie,  there  is  no  water. 
These  pools  are  all  sea-water.  I  must  say,  I  'm 
deuced  dry  myself.  I  can't  see  why  that  cad 

[20] 


WORSE     THAN     WILDERNESS 

should  go  off  and  leave  us  like  this,  when  we 
need  him  most." 

"  Indeed,  it  is  a  shame  —  Oh,  I  'm  so  thirsty ! 
Do  you  think  it  would  help  if  we  ate  something?  " 

"  Make  it  all  the  worse.  Besides,  how  could 
we  cook  anything?  All  these  reeds  are  green,  or 
at  least  water-soaked." 

"But  Mr.  Blake  said  to  gather  some  fish.  Had 
you  not  best — " 

"He  can  pick  up  all  he  wants.  I  shall  not 
touch  the  beastly  things." 

"  Then  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  to  do  but 
wait  for  him." 

"  Yes,  if  the  sharks  do  not  get  him." 

Miss  Leslie  uttered  a  little  moan,  and  Win- 
thrope,  seeing  that  she  was  on  the  verge  of  tears, 
hastened  to  reassure  her.  "  Don't  worry  about 
him,  Miss  Genevieve !  He  '11  soon  return,  with 
nothing  worse  than  a  blistered  back.  Fellows  of 
that  sort  are  born  to  hang,  you  know." 

"But  if  he  should  be  —  if  anything  should 
happen  to  him  !  " 

Winthrope  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  drew 
out  his  silver  cigarette  case.  It  was  more  than 
half  full,  and  he  was  highly  gratified  to  find  that 
neither  the  cigarettes  nor  the  vesta  matches  in 
the  cover  had  been  reached  by  the  wet. 

"  By  Jove,  here 's  luck  !  "  he  exclaimed,  and  he 
[271 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

As  he  approached,  Winthrope  waved  his  fifth 
cigarette  at  him  with  languid  enthusiasm,  and 
called  out  as  heartily  as  his  dry  lips  would 
permit:  "I  say,  Blake,  deuced  glad  the  sharks 
did  n't  get  you  !  " 

"Sharks? — bah!  All  you  have  to  do  is  to 
splash  a  little,  and  they  haul  off." 

"  How  about  the  steamer,  Mr.  Blake  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Leslie,  turning  to  face  him. 

"  All  under  but  the  maintopmast —  curse  it !  — 
wire  rigging  at  that!  Could  n't  even  get  a 
bolt." 

"A  bolt?" 

"  Not  a  bolt ;  and  here  we  are  as  good  as  naked 
on  this  infernal —  Hey,  you!  what  you  doing 
with  that  match  ?  Light  your  cigarette  —  light 
it !  —  Damnation  ! " 

Heedless  of  Blake's  warning  cry,  Winthrope 
had  struck  his  last  vesta,  and  now,  angry  and 
bewildered,  he  stood  staring  while  the  little  taper 
burned  itself  out.  With  an  oath,  Blake  sprang  to 
catch  it  as  it  dropped  from  between  Winthrope's 
fingers.  But  he  was  too  far  away.  It  fell  among 
the  damp  rushes,  spluttered,  and  flared  out. 

For  a  moment  Blake  knelt,  staring  at  the 
rushes  as  though  stupefied ;  then  he  sprang  up 
before  Winthrope,  his  bronzed  face  purple  with 
anger. 

[30] 


THE     WORTH     OF    FIRE 

"  Where 's  your  matchbox  I  Got  any  more  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"Last  one,  I  fancy  —  yes;  last  one,  and  there 
are  still  two  cigarettes.  But  look  here,  Blake,  I 
can't  tolerate  your  talking  so  deucedly  —  " 

"You  idiot!  you  —  you —  Hell!  and  every 
one  for  cigarettes ! " 

From  a  growl  Blake's  voice  burst  into  a  roar 
of  fury,  and  he  sprang  upon  Winthrope  like  a 
wild  beast.  His  hands  closed  upon  the  English 
man's  throat,  and  he  began  to  shake  him  about, 
paying  no  heed  to  the  blows  his  victim  showered 
upon  his  face  and  body,  blows  which  soon  began 
to  lessen  in  force. 

Terror-stricken,  Miss  Leslie  put  her  hands  over 
her  eyes,  and  began  to  scream  —  the  piercing 
shriek  that  will  unnerve  the  strongest  man. 
Blake  paused  as  though  transfixed,  and  as  the 
half-suffocated  Englishman  struggled  in  his  grasp, 
he  flung  him  on  the  ground,  and  turned  to  the 
screaming  girl. 

"  Stop  that  squawking !  "  he  said.  The  girl 
cowed  down.  "  So ;  that 's  better.  Next  time 
keep  your  mouth  shut." 

"  You  —  you  brute  !  " 

"  Good  !     You  've  got  a  little  spunk,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  coward  —  to  attack  a  man  not  half  your 
strength ! " 

[31] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"Steady,  steady,  young  lady!  I'm  warm 
enough  yet ;  I  've  still  half  a  mind  to  wring  his 
fool  neck." 

"  But  why  should  you  be  so  angry  *  What 
has  he  done,  that  you  —  " 

"  Why  —  why  ?  Lord !  what  has  n't  he  done ! 
This  coast  fairly  swarms  with  beasts.  We  've 
not  the  smell  of  a  gun;  and  now  this  idiot  — 
this  dough-head  —  has  gone  and  thrown  away 
our  only  chance  —  fire  —  and  on  his  measly 
cigarettes ! "  Blake  choked  with  returning 
rage. 

Winthrope,  still  panting  for  breath,  began  to 
creep  away,  at  the  same  time  unclasping  a  small 
penknife.  He  was  white  with  fear ;  but  his  gray 
eyes  —  which  on  shipboard  Blake  had  never  seen 
other  than  offensively  supercilious  —  now  glinted 
in  a  manner  that  served  to  alter  the  American's 
mood. 

"  That'll  do,"  he  said.  " Come  here  and  show 
me  that  knife." 

"  I  '11  show  it  you  where  it  will  do  the  most 
good,"  muttered  Winthrope,  rising  hastily  to 
repel  the  expected  attack. 

"  So  you  've  got  a  little  sand,  too,"  said  Blake, 
almost  good-naturedly.  "  Say,  that 's  not  so  bad. 
We  '11  call  it  quits  on  the  matches.  Though  how 
you  could  go  and  throw  them  away  —  " 

[32] 


THE    WORTH     OF    FIRE 

"  Deuce  take  it,  man !  How  should  I  know  1 
I  've  never  before  been  in  a  wreck." 

"Neither  have  I  —  this  kind.  But  I  tell  you, 
we  've  got  to  keep  our  think  tanks  going.  It 's  a 
guess  if  we  see  to-morrow,  and  that's  no  joke. 
Now  do  you  wonder  I  got  hot  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  no  !  I  've  been  an  ass,  and  here 's  my 
hand  to  it  —  if  you  really  mean  it 's  quits." 

"  It 's  quits  all  right,  long  as  you  don't  run  out 
of  sand,"  responded  Blake,  and  he  gripped  the 
other's  soft  hand  until  the  Englishman  winced. 
"  So ;  that 's  settled.  I  've  got  a  hot  temper,  but 
I  don't  hold  grudges.  Now,  where 're  your 
fish?" 

"I  —  well,  they  were  all  spoiled." 

"Spoiled?" 

"  The  sun  had  shrivelled  them." 

"  And  you  call  that  spoiled !  We  're  like  to  eat 
them  rotten  before  we  're  through  with  this  picnic. 
How  about  the  pools  ?  " 

"  Pools?  Do  you  know,  Blake,  I  never  thought 
of  the  pools.  I  stopped  to  watch  you,  and  then 
we  were  so  anxious  about  you  —  " 

Blake  grunted,  and  turned  on  his  heel  to  wade 
into  the  half-drained  pool  in  whose  midst  he  had 
been  deposited  by  the  hurricane. 

Two  or  three  small  fish  lay  faintly  wriggling 
on  the  surface.  As  Blake  splashed  through  the 
3  [33] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

water  to  seize  them,  his  foot  struck  against  a  liv 
ing  body  which  floundered  violently  and  flashed 
a  brilliant  forked  tail  above  the  muddy  water. 
Blake  sprang  over  the  fish,  which  was  entangled 
in  the  reeds,  and  with  a  kick,  flung  it  clear  out 
upon  the  ground. 

"  A  coryphene ! "  cried  Winthrope,  and  he 
ran  forward  to  stare  at  the  gorgeously  colored 
prize. 

"  Coryphene  ?  "  repeated  Blake,  following  his 
example.  "  Good  to  eat  I  " 

"Fine  as  salmon.  This  is  only  a  small  one, 
but- 

"  Fifteen  pounds,  if  an  ounce  ! "  cried  Blake, 
and  he  thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket.  There  was 
a  moment's  silence,  and  Winthrope,  glancing  up, 
saw  the  other  staring  in  blank  dismay. 

"What 'sup?  "he  asked. 

"  Lost  my  knife." 

"  When  !  —  in  the  pool  f     If  we  felt  about  —  " 

"  No ;  aboard  ship,  or  in  the  surf —  " 

"  Here  is  my  knife." 

"  Yes ;  almost  big  enough  to  whittle  a  match ! 
Mine  would  have  done  us  some  good." 

"  It  is  the  best  steel." 

"  All  right ;  let 's  see  you  cut  up  the  fish." 

"  But  you  know,  Blake,  I  should  n't  know  how 
to  go  about  it.  I  never  did  such  a  thing." 

[34] 


THE     WORTH     OF    FIRE 

"And  you,  Miss  Jenny!  Girls  are  supposed 
to  know  about  cooking," 

"I  never  cooked  anything  in  all  my  life,  Mr. 
Blake,  and  it 's  alive,  —  and  —  and  I  am  very 
thirsty,  Mr.  Blake !  " 

"  Lord !  "  commented  Blake.  "  Give  me  that 
knife." 

Though  the  blade  was  so  small,  the  American's 
hand  was  strong.  After  some  little  haggling,  the 
coryphene  was  killed  and  dressed.  Blake  washed 
both  it  and  his  hands  in  the  pool,  and  began  to 
cut  slices  of  flesh  from  the  fish's  tail. 

"  We  have  no  fire,"  Winthrope  reminded  him, 
flushing  at  the  word. 

"That's  true,"  assented  Blake,  in  a  cheerful 
tone,  and  he  offered  Winthrope  two  of  the  pieces 
of  raw  flesh.  "Here's  your  breakfast.  The 
trimmed  piece  is  for  Miss  Leslie." 

"But  it 's  raw !  Really,  I  could  not  think  of 
eating  raw  fish.  Could  you,  Miss  Leslie?" 

Miss  Leslie  shuddered.  "Oh,  no!  —  and  I'm 
so  thirsty  I  could  not  eat  anything." 

"You  bet  you  can!"  replied  Blake.  "Both 
of  you  take  that  fish,  and  go  to  chewing.  It's 
the  stuff  to  ease  your  thirst  while  we  look  for 
water.  Good  Lord  !  —  in  a  week  you  '11  be  glad 
to  eat  raw  snake.  Finnicky  over  clean  fish, 
when  you  swallow  canvas-back  all  but  raw,  and 

[35] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

beef  running  blood,  and  raw  oysters  with  their 
stomachs  full  of  disintegrated  animal  matter,  to 
put  it  politely !  You  could  n't  tell  rattlesnake 
broth  from  chicken,  and  dog  makes  first-rate  veal 
—  when  you  've  got  to  eat  it  I  've  had  it  straight 
from  them  that  know,  that  over  in  France  they 
eat  snails  and  fish-worms.  It's  all  a  matter  of 
custom  or  the  style." 

"To  be  sure,  the  Japanese  eat  raw  fish,"  ad 
mitted  Winthrope. 

"  Yes ;  and  you  'd  swallow  your  share  of  it  if 
you  had  an  invite  to  a  swell  dinner  in  Tokio. 
Go  on  now,  both  of  you.  It 's  no  joke,  I  tell  you. 
You  've  got  to  eat,  if  you  expect  to  get  to  water 
before  night  Understand?  See  that  headland 
south?  Well,  it's  a  hundred  to  one  we'll  not 
find  water  short  of  there,  and  if  we  make  it  by 
night,  we'll  be  doing  better  than  I  figure  from 
the  look  of  these  bogs.  Now  go  to  chewing. 
That's  it!  That's  fine,  Miss  Jenny!" 

Miss  Leslie  had  forced  herself  to  take  a  nibble 
of  the  raw  fish.  The  flavor  proved  less  repulsive 
than  she  had  expected,  and  its  moisture  was  so 
grateful  to  her  parched  mouth  that  she  began  to 
eat  with  eagerness.  Not  to  be  outdone,  Win 
thrope  promptly  followed  her  lead.  Blake  had 
already  cut  himself  a  second  slice.  After  he  had 
cut  more  for  his  companions,  he  began  to  look 

[36] 


THE     WORTH     OF     FIRE 

them  over  with  a  closeness  that  proved  embar 
rassing  to  Miss  Leslie. 

"Here's  more  of  the  good  stuff,"  he  said. 
"While  you  Ye  chewing  it,  we'll  sort  of  take 
stock.  Everybody  shell  out  everything.  Here  's 
my  outfit  —  three  shillings,  half  a  dozen  poker 
chips,  and  not  another  blessed —  Say,  what's 
become  of  that  whiskey  flask!  Have  you  seen 
my  flask  I " 

"Here  it  is,  right  beside  me,  Mr.  Blake,"  an 
swered  Miss  Leslie.  "  But  it  is  empty." 

"Might  be  worse!  What  you  got?  —  hair 
pins,  watch?  No  pocket,  I  suppose?" 

"  None ;  and  no  watch.  Even  most  of  my 
pins  are  gone,"  replied  the  girl,  and  she  raised 
her  hand  to  her  loosely  coiled  hair. 

"Well,  hold  on  to  what  you've  got  left. 
They  may  come  in  for  fish-hooks.  Let's  see 
your  shoes." 

Miss  Leslie  slowly  thrust  a  slender  little  foot 
just  beyond  the  hem  of  her  draggled  white  skirt. 

"  Good  Lord !  "  groaned  Blake,  "  slippers,  and 
high  heels  at  that !  How  do  you  expect  to  walk 
in  those  things  ?  " 

"I  can  at  least  try,"  replied  the  girl,  with 
spirit. 

"  Hobble !  Pass  'em  over  here,  Winnie,  my 
boy." 

[37] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

The  slippers  were  handed  over.  Blake  took 
one  after  the  other,  and  wrenched  off  the  heel 
close  to  its  base. 

"  Now  you  've  at  least  got  a  pair  of  slippers," 
he  said,  tossing  them  back  to  their  owner.  "  Tie 
them  on  tight  with  a  couple  of  your  ribbons,  if 
you  don't  want  to  lose  them  in  the  mud.  Now, 
Winthrope,  what  you  got  beside  the  knife  ?  " 

Winthrope  held  out  a  bunch  of  long  flat  keys 
and  his  cigarette  case.  He  opened  the  latter,  and 
was  about  to  throw  away  the  two  remaining  cigar 
ettes  when  Blake  grasped  his  wrist. 

"  Hold  on !  even  they  may  come  in  for  some 
thing.  We'll  at  least  keep  them  until  we  need 
the  case." 

"And  the  keys?" 

"  Make  arrow-heads,  if  we  can  get  fire." 

"  I  've  heard  of  savages  making  fire  by  rubbing 
wood." 

"  Yes ;  and  we  're  a  long  way  from  being  sav 
ages,  —  at  present.  All  the  show  we  have  is  to 
find  some  kind  of  quartz  or  flint,  and  the  sooner 
we  start  to  look  the  better.  Got  your  slippers 
tied,  Miss  Jenny?" 

"Yes;  I  think  they '11  do." 

"  Think  !  It 's  knowing  's  the  thing.  Here, 
let  me  look." 

The  girl  shrank  back;  but  Blake  stooped  and 
[381 


THE     WORTH     OF     FIRE 

examined  first  one  slipper  and  then  the  other. 
The  ribbons  about  both  were  tied  in  dainty  bows. 
Blake  jerked  them  loose  and  twisted  them  firmly 
over  and  under  the  slippers  and  about  the  girl's 
slender  ankles  before  knotting  the  ends. 

"There;  that's  more  like.  You're  not  going 
to  a  dance,"  he  growled. 

He  thrust  the  empty  whiskey  flask  into  his  hip 
pocket,  and  went  back  to  pass  a  sling  of  reeds 
through  the  gills  of  the  coryphene. 

"All  ready  now,"  he  called.  "Let's  get  a 
move  on.  Keep  my  coat  closer  about  your 
shoulders,  Miss  Jenny,  and  keep  your  shade  up, 
if  you  don't  want  a  sunstroke." 

"Thank  you,  Blake,  I'll  see  to  that,"  said 
Winthrope.  "  I  'm  going  to  help  Miss  Leslie 
along.  I've  fastened  our  two  shades  together, 
so  that  they  will  answer  for  both  of  us." 

"  How  about  yourself,  Mr.  Blake  ?  "  inquired 
the  girl.  "  Do  you  not  find  the  sun  fearfully 
hot?" 

"  Sure ;  but  I  wet  my  head  in  the  sea,  and 
here's  another  souse." 

As  he  rose  with  dripping  head  from  beside  the 
pool,  he  slung  the  coryphene  on  his  back,  and 
started  off  without  further  words. 


[39] 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  JOURNEY  IN  DESOLATION 

MORNING  was  well  advanced,  and  the 
sun   beat   down   upon   the  three  with 
almost   overpowering  fierceness.     The 
heat  would  have  rendered  their  thirst  unendurable 
had  not  Blake  hacked  off  for  them  bit  after  bit  of 
the  moist  coryphene  flesh. 

In  a  temperate  climate,  ten  miles  over  firm 
ground  is  a  pleasant  walk  for  one  accustomed  to 
the  exercise.  Quite  a  different  matter  is  ten  miles 
across  mud-flats,  covered  with  a  tangle  of  reeds 
and  rushes,  and  frequently  dipping  into  salt 
marsh  and  ooze.  Before  they  had  gone  a  mile 
Miss  Leslie  would  have  lost  her  slippers  had  it 
not  been  for  Blake's  forethought  in  tying  them  so 
securely.  Within  a  little  more  than  three  miles 
the  girl's  strength  began  to  fail. 

"  Oh,  Blake, "  called  Winthrope,  for  the  Amer 
ican  was  some  yards  in  the  lead,  "  pull  up  a  bit 
on  that  knoll.  We  '11  have  to  rest  a  while,  I 
fancy.  Miss  Leslie  is  about  pegged." 

[40] 


A    JOURNEY    IN    DESOLATION 

"What's  that!"  demanded  Blake.  "We're 
not  half-way  yet !  " 

Winthrope  did  not  reply.  It  was  all  he  could 
do  to  drag  the  girl  up  on  the  hummock.  She 
sank,  half-fainting,  upon  the  dry  reeds,  and  he 
sat  down  beside  her  to  protect  her  with  the  shade. 
Blake  stared  at  the  miles  of  swampy  flats  which 
yet  lay  between  them  and  the  out-jutting  head 
land  of  gray  rock.  The  base  of  the  cliff  was 
screened  by  a  belt  of  trees;  but  the  nearest 
clump  of  green  did  not  look  more  than  a  mile 
nearer  than  the  headland. 

"  Hell ! "  muttered  Blake,  despondently.  "  Not 
even  a  short  four  miles.  Mush  and  sassiety 
girls!" 

Though  he  spoke  to  himself,  the  others  heard 
him.  Miss  Leslie  flushed,  and  would  have  risen 
had  not  Winthrope  put  his  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Could  you  not  go  on,  and  bring  back  a  flask 
of  water  for  Miss  Leslie  ?  "  he  asked.  "  By  that 
time  she  will  be  rested." 

"  No ;  I  don't  fetch  back  any  flasks  of  water. 
She's  going  when  I  go,  or  you  can  come  on  to 
suit  yourselves." 

"  Mr.  Blake,  you  —  you  won't  go,  and  leave  me 
here !  If  you  have  a  sister  —  if  your  mother  —  " 

"  She  died  of  drink,  and  both  my  sisters  did 
worse." 

[41] 


"My  God,  man!  do  you  mean  to  say  you'll 
abandon  a  helpless  young  girl  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  more  helpless  than  were  my  sisters 
when  you  rich  folks'  guardians  of  law  and  order 
jugged  me  for  the  winter,  'cause  I  did  n't  have  a 
job,  and  turned  both  girls  into  the  street  —  onto 
the  street,  if  you  know  what  that  means  —  one 
only  sixteen  and  the  other  seventeen.  Talk  about 
helpless  young  girls  —  Damnation  !  " 

Miss  Leslie  cringed  back  as  though  she  had 
been  struck.  Blake,  however,  seemed  to  have 
vented  his  anger  in  the  curse,  for  when  he  again 
spoke,  there  was  nothing  more  than  impatience 
in  his  tone.  "  Come  on,  now ;  get  aboard.  Win- 
thrope  couldn't  lug  you  a  half-mile,  and  long's 
it 's  the  only  way,  don't  be  all  day  about  it. 
Here,  Winthrope,  look  to  the  fish." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  I  don't  quite  take  your 
idea,  nor  does  Miss  Leslie,  I  fancy,"  ventured 
Winthrope. 

"  Well,  we  've  got  to  get  to  water,  or  die ;  and 
as  the  lady  can't  walk,  she 's  going  on  my  back. 
It 's  a  case  of  have-to." 

"No!   I  am  not  —  I  am  not!    I 'd  sooner  die  !" 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  '11  find  that  easy  enough,  later 
on,  Miss  Jenny.  Stand  by,  Winthrope,  to  help 
her  up.  Do  you  hear?  Take  the  knife  and  fish, 
and  lend  a  hand." 

[42] 


A    JOURNEY    IN    DESOLATION 

There  was  a  note  in  Blake's  voice  that  neither 
Winthrope  nor  Miss  Leslie  dared  disregard. 
Though  scarlet  with  mortification,  she  permitted 
herself  to  be  taken  pick-a-back  upon  Blake's  broad 
shoulders,  and  meekly  obeyed  his  command  to 
clasp  her  hands  about  his  throat.  Yet  even  at 
that  moment,  such  are  the  inconsistencies  of  hu 
man  nature,  she  could  not  but  admire  the  ease 
with  which  he  rose  under  her  weight. 

Now  that  he  no  longer  had  the  slow  pace  of  the 
girl  to  consider,  he  advanced  at  his  natural  gait, 
the  quick,  tireless  stride  of  an  American  railroad- 
surveyor.  His  feet,  trained  to  swamp  travel  in 
Louisiana  and  Panama,  seemed  to  find  the  firmest 
ground  as  by  instinct,  and  whether  on  the  half- 
dried  mud  of  the  hummocks  or  in  the  ankle-deep 
water  of  the  bogs,  they  felt  their  way  without 
slip  or  stumble. 

Winthrope,  though  burdened  only  with  the 
half-eaten  coryphene,  toiled  along  behind,  greatly 
troubled  by  the  mud  and  the  tangled  reeds,  and 
now  and  then  flung  down  by  some  unlucky  mis 
step.  His  modish  suit,  already  much  damaged 
by  the  salt  water,  was  soon  smeared  afresh  with 
a  coating  of  greenish  slime.  His  one  consola 
tion  was  that  Blake,  after  jeering  at  his  first  tum 
ble,  paid  no  more  attention  to  him.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  was  cut  by  the  seeming  indifference 

[43] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

of  Miss  Leslie.  Intent  on  his  own  misery,  he 
failed  to  consider  that  the  girl  might  be  suffering 
far  greater  discomfort  and  humiliation. 

More  than  three  miles  had  been  covered  before 
Blake  stopped  on  a  hummock.  Releasing  Miss 
Leslie,  he  stretched  out  on  the  dry  crest  of  the 
knoll,  and  called  for  a  slice  of  the  fish.  At  his 
urging,  the  others  took  a  few  mouthfuls,  although 
their  throats  were  now  so  parched  that  even  the 
moist  flesh  afforded  scant  relief.  Fortunately  for 
them  all,  Blake  had  been  thoroughly  trained  to 
endure  thirst.  He  rested  less  than  ten  minutes ; 
then,  taking  Miss  Leslie  up  again  like  a  rag  doll, 
he  swung  away  at  a  good  pace. 

The  trees  were  less  than  half  a  mile  distant 
when  he  halted  for  the  second  time.  He  would 
have  gone  to  them  without  a  pause  though  his 
muscles  were  quivering  with  exhaustion,  had  not 
Miss  Leslie  chanced  to  look  around  and  discover 
that  Winthrope  was  no  longer  following  them. 
For  the  last  mile  he  had  been  lagging  farther  and 
farther  behind,  and  now  he  had  suddenly  dis 
appeared.  At  the  girl's  dismayed  exclamation, 
Blake  released  his  hold,  and  she  found  herself 
standing  in  a  foot  or  more  of  mud  and  water. 
The  sweat  was  streaming  down  Blake's  face. 
As  he  turned  around,  he  wiped  it  off  with  his 
shirtsleeves. 

[44] 


A    JOURNEY    IN     DESOLATION 

"  Do  you  —  can  it  be,  Mr.  Blake,  that  he  has 
had  a  sunstroke  ?  "  asked  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Sunstroke  ?  No ;  he 's  just  laid  down,  that  *s 
all.  I  thought  he  had  more  sand  —  confound 
him!" 

"  But  the  sun  is  so  dreadfully  hot,  and  I  have 
his  shade." 

"And  he's  been  tumbling  into  every  other 
pool.  No;  it's  not  the  sun.  I've  half  a  mind 
to  let  him  lie  —  the  paper-legged  swell !  It 
would  no  more  than  square  our  aboard-ship 
accounts." 

"  Surely,  you  would  not  do  that,  Mr.  Blake ! 
It  may  be  that  he  has  hurt  himself  in  falling." 

'*  In  this  mud  ?  —  bah !  But  I  guess  I  *m  in 
for  the  pack-mule  stunt  all  around.  Now,  now ; 
don't  yowl,  Miss  Jenny.  I'm  going.  But  you 
can't  expect  me  to  love  the  snob." 

As  he  splashed  away  on  the  return  trail,  Miss 
Leslie  dabbed  at  her  eyes  to  check  the  starting 
tears. 

"Oh,  dear  —  Oh,  dear!"  she  moaned;  "what 
have  I  done,  to  be  so  treated?  Such  a  brute, 
Oh,  dear !  —  and  I  am  so  thirsty  ! " 

In  her  despair  she  would  have  sunk  down 
where  she  stood  had  not  the  sliminess  of  the 
water  repelled  her.  She  gazed  longingly  at  the 
trees,  in  the  fore  of  which  stood  a  grove  of  stately 

[45] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

palms.  The  half-mile  seemed  an  insuperable  dis 
tance,  but  the  ride  on  Blake's  back  had  rested 
her,  and  thirst  goaded  her  forward. 

Stumbling  and  slipping,  she  waded  on  across 
the  inundated  ground,  and  came  out  upon  a  half- 
baked  mud-flat,  where  the  walking  was  much 
easier.  But  the  sun  was  now  almost  directly 
overhead,  and  between  her  thirst  and  the  heat, 
she  soon  found  herself  faltering.  She  tottered  on 
a  few  steps  farther,  and  then  stopped,  utterly 
spent.  As  she  sank  upon  the  dried  rushes,  she 
glanced  around,  and  was  vaguely  conscious  of  a 
strange,  double-headed  figure  following  her  path 
across  the  marsh.  All  about  her  became  black. 

The  next  she  knew,  Blake  was  splashing  her 
head  and  face  with  brackish  water  out  of  the 
whiskey  flask.  She  raised  her  hand  to  shield  her 
face,  and  sat  up,  sick  and  dizzy. 

"That's  it!"  said  Blake.  He  spoke  in  a 
kindly  tone,  though  his  voice  was  harsh  and 
broken  with  thirst.  "  You  're  all  right  now. 
Pull  yourself  together,  and  we  '11  get  to  the  trees 
in  a  jifiy." 

"Mr.  Winthrope  —  ?" 

"I'm  here,  Miss  Genevieve.  It  was  only  a 
wrenched  ankle.  If  I  had  a  stick,  Blake,  I  fancy 
I  could  make  a  go  of  it  over  this  drier  ground." 

"  And  lay  yourself  up  for  a  month.  Come, 
[46] 


A    JOURNEY     IN     DESOLATION 

Miss  Jenny,  brace  up  for  another  try.  It  *s  only 
a  quarter-mile,  and  I  've  got  to  pack  him." 

The  girl  was  gasping  with  thirst ;  yet  she  made 
an  effort,  and  assisted  by  Blake  managed  to  gain 
her  feet.  She  was  still  dizzy;  but  as  Blake 
swung  Winthrope  upon  his  back,  he  told  her  to 
take  hold  of  his  arm.  Winthrope  held  the  shade 
over  her  head.  Thus  assisted,  and  sheltered 
from  the  direct  beat  of  the  sun-rays,  she  tottered 
along  beside  Blake,  half  unconscious. 

Fortunately  the  remaining  distance  lay  across 
a  stretch  of  bare  dry  ground,  for  even  Blake  had 
all  but  reached  the  limit  of  endurance.  Step  by 
step  he  labored  on,  staggering  under  the  weight 
of  the  Englishman,  and  gasping  with  a  thirst 
which  his  exertions  rendered  even  greater  than 
that  of  his  companions.  But  through  the  trees 
and  brush  which  stretched  away  inland  in  a  wall 
of  verdure  he  had  caught  glimpses  of  a  broad 
stream,  and  the  hope  of  fresh  water  called  out 
every  ounce  of  his  reserve  strength. 

At  last  the  nearest  palm  was  only  a  few  paces 
distant.  Blake  clutched  Miss  Leslie's  arm,  and 
dragged  her  forward  with  a  rush,  in  a  final  out 
burst  of  energy.  A  moment  later  all  three  lay 
gasping  in  the  shade.  But  the  river  was  yet 
another  hundred  yards  distant.  Blake  waited 
only  to  regain  his  breath  ;  then  he  staggered  up 

[47] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

and  went  on.  The  others,  unable  to  rise,  gazed 
after  him  in  silent  misery. 

Soon  Blake  found  himself  rushing  through  the 
jungle  along  a  broad  trail  pitted  with  enormous 
footprints;  but  he  was  so  near  mad  with  thirst 
that  he  paid  no  heed  to  the  spoor  other  than  to 
curse  the  holes  for  the  trouble  they  gave  him. 
Suddenly  the  trail  turned  to  the  left  and  sloped 
down  a  low  bank  into  the  river.  Blind  to  all 
else,  Blake  ran  down  the  slope,  and  dropping 
upon  his  knees,  plunged  his  head  into  the  water. 

At  first  his  throat  was  so  dry  that  he  could  no 
more  than  rinse  his  mouth.  With  the  first  swal 
low,  his  swollen  tongue  mocked  him  with  the  salt, 
bitter  taste  of  sea-water.  The  tide  was  flowing ! 
He  rose,  sputtering  and  choking  and  gasping.  He 
stared  around.  There  was  no  question  that  he 
was  on  the  bank  of  a  river  and  would  be  certain 
of  fresh  water  with  the  ebb  tide.  But  could  he 
endure  the  agony  of  his  thirst  all  those  hours  ? 

He  thought  of  his  companions. 

"  Good  God  !  "  he  groaned,  "  they  're  goners 
anyway ! " 

He  stared  dully  up  the  river  at  the  thousands 
of  waterfowl  which  lined  its  banks.  Within  close 
view  were  herons  and  black  ibises,  geese,  peli 
cans,  flamingoes,  and  a  dozen  other  species  of 
birds  of  which  he  did  not  know  the  names.  But 

[48] 


A    JOURNEY     IN     DESOLATION 

he  sat  as  though  in  a  stupor,  and  did  not  move 
even  when  one  of  the  driftwood  logs  on  a  mud- 
shoal  a  few  yards  up-stream  opened  an  enormous 
mouth  and  displayed  two  rows  of  hooked  fangs. 
It  was  otherwise  when  the  noontime  stillness  was 
broken  by  a  violent  splashing  and  loud  snortings 
down-stream.  He  glanced  about,  and  saw  six  or 
eight  monstrous  heads  drifting  towards  him  with 
the  tide. 

"  What  in  —  Whee !  a  whole  herd  of  hip 
pos !"  he  muttered.  "That's  what  the  holes 
mean." 

The  foremost  hippopotamus  was  headed  di 
rectly  for  him.  He  glared  at  the  huge  head  with 
sullen  resentment.  For  all  his  stupor,  he  per 
ceived  at  once  that  the  beast  intended  to  land ; 
and  he  sat  in  the  middle  of  its  accustomed  path. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  spring  up  and  yell  at  the 
creature.  Then  he  remembered  hearing  that  a 
white  hunter  had  recently  been  killed  by  these 
beasts  on  one  of  the  South  African  lakes.  Instead 
of  leaping  up,  he  sank  down  almost  flat,  and 
crawled  back  around  the  turn  in  the  path.  Once 
certain  that  he  was  hidden  from  the  beasts,  he  rose 
to  his  feet  and  hastened  back  through  the  jungle. 

He  was  almost  in  view  of  the  spot  where  he 
had  left  Winthrope  and  Miss  Leslie,  when  he 
stopped  and  stood  hesitating. 

4  [49] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"I  can't  do  it,"  he  muttered;  "I  can't  tell 
her, —  poor  girl !  " 

He  turned  and  pushed  into  the  thicket.  Forc 
ing  a  way  through  the  tangle  of  thorny  shrubs 
and  creepers,  until  several  yards  from  the  path, 
he  began  to  edge  towards  the  face  of  the  jungle, 
that  he  might  peer  out  at  his  companions,  unseen 
by  them. 

There  was  more  of  the  thicket  before  him  than 
he  had  thought,  and  he  was  still  fighting  his  way 
through  it,  when  he  was  brought  to  a  stand  by  a 
peculiar  cry  that  might  have  been  the  bleat  of  a 
young  lamb:  "  Ba  —  ba !  " 

"What's  that?"  he  croaked. 

He  stood  listening,  and  in  a  moment  he  again 
heard  the  cry,  this  time  more  distinctly :  "  Blak  ! 
-Blak!" 

There  could  be  no  mistake.  It  was  Winthrope 
calling  for  him,  and  calling  with  a  clearness  of 
voice  that  would  have  been  physically  impossible 
half  an  hour  since.  Blake's  sunken  eyes  lighted 
with  hope.  He  burst  through  the  last  screen  of 
jungle,  and  stared  towards  the  palm  under  which 
he  had  left  his  companions.  They  were  not 
there. 

Another  call  from  Winthrope  directed  his  gaze 
more  seaward.  The  two  were  seated  beside  a 
fallen  palm,  and  Miss  Leslie  had  a  large  round 

[50] 


A    JOURNEY     IN     DESOLATION 

object  raised  to  her  lips.     Winthrope  was  waving 
to  him. 

"  Cocoanuts  !  "  he  yelled.     "  Come  on  !  " 

Three  of  the  palms  had  been  overthrown  by 
the  hurricane,  and  when  Blake  came  up,  he  found 
the  ground  strewn  with  nuts.  He  seized  the  first 
he  came  to ;  but  Winthrope  held  out  one  already 
opened.  He  snatched  it  from  him,  and  placed 
the  hole  to  his  swollen  lips.  Never  had  cham 
pagne  tasted  half  so  delicious  as  that  cocoanut 
milk.  Before  he  could  drain  the  last  of  it 
through  the  little  opening,  Winthrope  had  the 
husks  torn  from  the  ends  of  two  other  nuts,  and 
the  convenient  germinal  spots  gouged  open  with 
his  penknife. 

Blake  emptied  the  third  before  he  spoke. 
Even  then  his  voice  was  hoarse  and  strained. 
"How'd  you  strike  'em?" 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  explained  Winthrope. 
"  Hardly  had  you  disappeared  when  I  noticed 
the  tops  of  the  fallen  palms,  and  thought  of  the 
nuts.  There  was  one  in  the  grass  not  twenty 
feet  from  where  we  lay." 

"  Lucky  for  you  —  and  for  me,  too,  I  guess," 
said  Blake.  "  We  were  all  three  down  for  the 
count.  But  this  settles  the  first  round  in  our 
favor.  How  do  you  like  the  picnic,  Miss 
Jenny  ?  " 

[51] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Miss  Leslie,  if  you  please,"  replied  the  girl, 
with  hauteur. 

"  Oh,  say,  Miss  Jenny !  "  protested  Blake, 
genially.  "  We  live  in  the  same  boarding-house 
now.  Why  not  be  folksy  f  You  're  free  to  call 
me  Tom.  Pass  me  another  nut,  Winthrope. 
Thanks !  By  the  way,  what 's  your  front  name  f 
Saw  it  aboard  ship  —  Cyril  —  " 

"  Cecil,"  corrected  Winthrope,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Cecil  —  Lord  Cecil,  eh?  —  or  is  it  only  The 
Honorable  Cecil  ?  " 

"My  dear  sir,  I  have  intimated  before  that, 
for  reasons  of — er  —  State  —  " 

"Oh,  yes;  you're  travelling  incog.,  in  the 
secret  service.  Sort  of  detective  —  " 

"  Detective  !  "  echoed  Winthrope,  in  a  peculiar 
tone. 

Blake  grinned.  "  Well,  it  is  rawther  a  nawsty 
business  for  your  honorable  ludship.  But  there 's 
nothing  like  calling  things  by  their  right  names." 

"Right  names  —  er  —  I  don't  quite  take  you. 
I  have  told  you  distinctly,  my  name  is  Cecil 
Winthrope ! " 

"O-h-h!  how  lovely !  — See-sill !  See-seal!  — 
Bet  they  called  you  Sissy  at  school.  English 
chum  of  mine  told  me  your  schools  are  corkers 
for  nicknames.  What  '11  we  make  it  —  Sis  or 
Sissy?" 

[52] 


A    JOURNEY    IN    DESOLATION 

"I  prefer  my  patronymic,  Mr.  Blake,"  replied 
Winthrope. 

"All  right,  then;  we'll  make  it  Pat,  if  that's 
your  choice.  I  say,  Pat,  this  juice  is  the  stuff 
for  wetness,  but  it  makes  a  fellow  remember  his 
grub.  Where  'd  you  leave  that  fish  I " 

"Really,  I  can't  just  say,  but  it  must  have 
been  where  I  wrenched  my  ankle." 

"  You  cawn't  just  say !  And  what  are  we 
going  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Here  are  the  cocoanuts." 

"  Bright  boy !  go  to  the  head  of  the  class ! 
Just  take  some  more  husk  off  those  empty  ones." 

Winthrope  caught  up  one  of  the  nuts,  and  with 
the  aid  of  his  knife,  stripped  it  of  its  husk.  At  a 
gesture  from  Blake,  he  laid  it  on  the  bare  ground, 
and  the  American  burst  it  open  with  a  blow  of 
his  heel.  It  was  an  immature  nut,  and  the  meat 
proved  to  be  little  thicker  than  clotted  cream. 
Blake  divided  it  into  three  parts,  handing  Miss 
Leslie  the  cleanest. 

Though  his  companions  began  with  more  re 
straint,  they  finished  their  shares  with  equal 
gusto.  Wiuthrope  needed  no  further  orders  to 
return  to  his  husking.  One  after  another,  the 
nuts  were  cracked  and  divided  among  the  three, 
until  even  Blake  could  not  swallow  another 
mouthful  of  the  luscious  cream. 

[53] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Toward  the  end  Miss  Leslie  had  become 
drowsy.  At  Winthrope's  urging,  she  now  lay 
down  for  a  nap,  Blake's  coat  serving  as  a  pillow. 
She  fell  asleep  while  Winthrope  was  yet  arrang 
ing  it  for  her.  Blake  had  turned  his  back  on  her, 
and  was  staring  moodily  at  the  hippopotamus 
trail,  when  Winthrope  hobbled  around  and  sat 
down  on  the  palm  trunk  beside  him. 

"  I  say,  Blake,"  he  suggested,  "  I  feel  deuced 
fagged  myself.  Why  not  all  take  a  nap  ?  " 

"  *  And  when  they  awoke,  they  were  all  dead 
men,'  "  remarked  Blake. 

"  By  Jove,  that  sounds  like  a  joke,"  protested 
the  Englishman.  "  Don't  rag  me  now." 

"Joke!"  repeated  Blake.  "Why,  that's 
Scripture,  Pat,  Scripture  !  Anyway,  you  'd  think 
it  no  joke  to  wake  up  and  find  yourself  going 
down  the  throat  of  a  hippo." 

"Hippo  t" 

"  Dozens  of  them  over  in  the  river.  Should  n't 
wonder  if  they  've  all  landed,  and  're  tracking  me 
down  by  this  time." 

"  But  hippopotami  are  not  carnivorous — they  're 
not  at  all  dangerous,  unless  one  wounds  them, 
out  in  the  water." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  I  'm  not  taking  chances. 
They  've  got  mouths  like  sperm  whales  —  I  saw 
one  take  a  yawn.  Another  thing,  that  bayou  is 

[54] 


A    JOURNEY    IN     DESOLATION 

chuck  full  of  alligators,  and  a  fellow  down  on  the 
Rand  told  me  they  're  like  the  Central  American 
gavials  for  keenness  to  nip  a  swimmer." 

"  They  will  not  come  out  on  this  dry  land." 

"  Suppose  they  won't  —  there 're  no  other  ani 
mals  in  Africa  but  sheep,  eh  ?  " 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  The  captain  told  me  that 
there  are  both  lions  and  leopards  on  this  coast." 

"  Nice  place  for  them,  too,  around  these  trees," 
added  Blake.  "  Lucky  for  us,  they  're  night- 
birds  mostly,  —  if  that  Rand  fellow  did  n't  lie. 
He  was  a  Boer,  so  I  guess  he  ought  to  know." 

"To  be  sure.  It's  a  nasty  fix  we're  in  for 
to-night.  Could  we  not  build  some  kind  of  a 
barricade  1 " 

"With  a  penknife!  Guess  we'll  roost  in  a 
tree." 

"  But  cannot  leopards  climb  I  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  have  heard  —  " 

"  How  about  lions?" 

"  They  cannot ;  I  'm  sure  of  that." 

"  Then  we  '11  chance  the  leopards.  Just  stretch 
out  here,  and  nurse  that  ankle  of  yours.  I  don't 
want  to  be  lugging  you  all  year.  I  'm  going  to 
hunt  a  likely  tree." 


[55] 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  RE-ASCENT  OF  MAN 

AFTERNOON  was  far  advanced,  and  Win- 
thrope  was   beginning   to  feel  anxious, 
when   at    last   Blake   pushed   out  from 
among  the  close  thickets.     As  he  approached,  he 
swung  an  unshapely  club  of  green  wood,  pausing 
every  few  paces  to  test  its  weight  and  balance 
on  a  bush  or  knob  of  dirt. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  called  Winthrope ;  "  that's  not  half 
bad!  You  look  as  if  you  could  bowl  over  an  ox." 

Blake  showed  that  he  was  flattered. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  responded ;  "  the 
thing  's  blamed  unhandy.  Just  the  same,  I  guess 
we  '11  be  ready  for  callers  to-night" 

" How's  that?" 

"  Show  you  later,  Pat,  me  b'y.  Now  trot  out 
some  nuts.  We  '11  feed  before  we  move  camp." 

"  Miss  Leslie  is  still  sleeping." 

"Time,  then,  to  roust  her  out  Hey,  Miss 
Jenny,  turn  out !  Time  to  chew." 

Miss  Leslie  sat  up  and  gazed  around  in  bewil 
derment. 

[56] 


THE     RE-ASCENT    OF    MAN 

"It  's  all  right,  Miss  Gene  vie  ve,"  reassured  Win- 
thrope.  "  Blake  has  found  a  safe  place  for  the 
night,  and  he  wishes  us  to  eat  before  we  leave  here." 

"  Save  lugging  the  grub,"  added  Blake.  "  Get 
busy,  Pat." 

As  Winthrope  caught  up  a  nut,  the  girl  began 
to  arrange  her  disordered  hair  and  dress  with  the 
deft  and  graceful  movements  of  a  woman  thor 
oughly  trained  in  the  art  of  self-adornment. 
There  was  admiration  in  Blake's  deep  eyes  as  he 
watched  her  dainty  preening.  She  was  not  a 
beautiful  girl  —  at  present  she  could  hardly  be 
termed  pretty ;  yet  even  in  her  draggled,  muddy 
dress  she  retained  all  the  subtle  charms  of  culture 
which  appeal  so  strongly  to  a  man.  Blake  was 
subdued.  His  feelings  even  carried  him  so  far  as 
an  attempt  at  formal  politeness,  when  they  had 
finished  their  meal. 

"  Now,  Miss  Leslie,"  he  began,  "  it 's  little  more 
than  half  an  hour  to  sundown ;  so,  if  you  please, 
if  you  're  quite  ready,  we  'd  best  be  starting." 

" Is  it  far!" 

"  Not  so  very.  But  we  've  got  to  chase  through 
the  jungle.  Are  you  sure  you  're  quite  ready  I " 

"  Quite,  thank  you.  But  how  about  Mr.  Win- 
thrope's  ankle  ?  " 

"  He  '11  ride  as  far  as  the  trees.  I  can't  squeeze 
through  with  him,  though." 

[57] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  I  shall  walk  all  the  way,"  put  in  Winthrope. 

"  No,  you  won't.  Climb  aboard,"  replied 
Blake,  and  catching  up  his  club,  he  stooped 
for  Winthrope  to  mount  his  back.  As  he  rose 
with  his  burden,  Miss  Leslie  caught  sight  of 
his  coat,  which  still  lay  in  a  roll  beside  the  palm 
trunk. 

"  How  about  your  coat,  Mr.  Blake  I "  she 
asked.  "  Should  you  not  put  it  on  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  'm  loaded  now.  Have  to  ask  you  to 
look  after  it.  You  may  need  it  before  morning, 
anyway.  If  the  dews  here  are  like  those  in 
Central  America,  they  are  d-darned  liable  to 
bring  on  malarial  fever." 

Nothing  more  was  said  until  they  had  crossed 
the  open  space  between  the  palms  and  the  belt  of 
jungle  along  the  river.  At  other  times  Win 
thrope  and  Miss  Leslie  might  have  been  inter 
ested  in  the  towering  screw-palms,  festooned  to 
the  top  with  climbers,  and  in  the  huge  ferns 
which  they  could  see  beneath  the  mangroves,  in 
the  swampy  ground  on  their  left.  Now,  how 
ever,  they  were  far  too  concerned  with  the  ques 
tion  of  how  they  should  penetrate  the  dense 
tangle  of  thorny  brush  and  creepers  which  rose 
before  them  like  a  green  wall.  Even  Blake  hesi 
tated  as  he  released  Winthrope,  and  looked  at 
Miss  Leslie's  costume.  Her  white  skirt  was  of 

[58] 


THE     RE-ASCENT     OF     MAN 

stout  duck ;  but  the  flimsy  material  of  her  waist 
was  ill-suited  for  rough  usage. 

"  Better  put  the  coat  on,  unless  you  want  to 
come  out  on  the  other  side  in  full  evening  dress," 
he  said.  "There's  no  use  kicking;  but  I  wish 
you  'd  happened  to  have  on  some  sort  of  a  jacket 
when  we  got  spilled." 

"  Is  there  no  path  through  the  thicket  ?  "  in 
quired  Winthrope. 

"  Only  the  hippo  trail,  and  it  don't  go  our  way. 
We  've  got  to  run  our  own  line.  Here 's  a  stick 
for  your  game  ankle." 

Winthrope  took  the  half-green  branch  which 
Blake  broke  from  the  nearest  tree,  and  turned  to 
assist  Miss  Leslie  with  the  coat.  The  garment 
was  of  such  coarse  cloth  that  as  Winthrope  drew 
the  collar  close  about  her  throat  Miss  Leslie 
could  not  forego  a  little  grimace  of  repugnance. 
The  crease  between  Blake's  eyes  deepened,  and 
the  girl  hastened  to  utter  an  explanatory  excla 
mation  :  "  Not  so  tight,  Mr.  Winthrope,  please ! 
It  scratches  my  neck." 

"  You  'd  find  those  thorns  a  whole  lot  worse," 
muttered  Blake. 

"  To  be  sure ;  and  Miss  Leslie  fully  appre 
ciates  your  kindness,"  interposed  Winthrope. 

"  I  do  indeed,  Mr.  Blake  !  I  'm  sure  I  never 
could  go  through  here  without  your  coat." 

[59] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  That 's  all  right.     Got  the  handkerchief!  " 

"  I  put  it  in  one  of  the  pockets." 

"  It'll  do  to  tie  up  your  hair." 

Miss  Leslie  took  the  suggestion,  knotting  the 
big  square  of  linen  over  her  fluffy  brown  hair. 

Blake  waited  only  for  her  to  draw  out  the 
kerchief,  before  he  began  to  force  a  way  through 
the  jungle.  Now  and  then  he  beat  at  the  tangled 
vegetation  with  his  club.  Though  he  held  to  the 
line  by  which  he  had  left  the  thicket,  yet  all  his 
efforts  failed  to  open  an  easy  passage  for  the 
others.  Many  of  the  thorny  branches  sprang 
back  into  place  behind  him,  and  as  Miss  Leslie, 
who  was  the  first  to  follow,  sought  to  thrust  them 
aside,  the  thorns  pierced  her  delicate  skin,  until 
her  hands  were  covered  with  blood.  Nor  did 
Winthrope,  stumbling  and  hobbling  behind  her, 
fare  any  better.  Twice  he  tripped  headlong  into 
the  brush,  scratching  his  arms  and  face. 

Blake  took  his  own  punishment  as  a  matter  of 
course,  though  his  tougher  and  thicker  skin  made 
his  injuries  less  painful.  He  advanced  steadily 
along  the  line  of  bent  and  broken  twigs  that 
marked  his  outward  passage,  until  the  thicket 
opened  on  a  strip  of  grassy  ground  beneath  a 
wild  fig-tree. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  exclaimed  Winthrope,  "  a 
banyan ! " 

[60] 


THE     RE-ASCENT    OF     MAN 

"  Banyan  ?  Well,  if  that 's  British  for  a  daisy, 
you  've  hit  it,"  responded  Blake.  "  Just  take  a 
squint  up  here.  How 's  that  for  a  roost  I  " 

Winthrope  and  Miss  Leslie  stared  up  dubiously 
at  the  edge  of  a  bed  of  reeds  gathered  in  the 
hollow  of  one  of  the  huge  flattened  branches  at 
its  junction  with  the  main  trunk  of  the  banyan, 
twenty  feet  above  them. 

"Will  not  the  mosquitoes  pester  us,  here 
among  the  trees  I "  objected  Winthrope. 

"  Storm  must  have  blown  'em  away.  I  have  n't 
seen  any  yet." 

"  There  will  be  millions  after  sunset." 

"  Maybe ;  but  I  bet  they  keep  below  our  roost." 

"  But  how  are  we  to  get  up  so  high  t "  inquired 
Miss  Leslie. 

"  I  can  swarm  this  drop  root,  and  I  've  a  creeper 
ready  for  you  two,"  explained  Blake. 

Suiting  action  to  words,  he  climbed  up  the 
small  trunk  of  the  air  root,  and  swung  over  into 
the  hollow  where  he  had  piled  the  reeds.  Across 
the  broad  limb  dangled  a  rope-like  creeper,  one 
end  of  which  he  had  fastened  to  a  branch  higher 
up.  He  flung  down  the  free  end  to  Winthrope. 

"Look  lively,  Pat,"  he  called.  "The  sun's 
most  gone,  and  the  twilight  don't  last  all  night  in 
these  parts.  Get  the  line  around  Miss  Leslie, 
and  do  what  you  can  on  a  boost." 

[61] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  I  see ;  but,  you  know,  the  vine  is  too  stiff 
to  tie." 

Blake  stifled  an  oath,  and  jerked  the  end  of  the 
creeper  up  into  his  hand.  When  he  threw  it  down 
again,  it  was  looped  around  and  fastened  in  a 
bowline  knot. 

"Now,  Miss  Leslie,  get  aboard,  and  we'll  have 
you  up  in  a  jiffy,"  he  said. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  can  lift  me  1 "  asked  the  girl, 
as  Winthrope  slipped  the  loop  over  her  shoulders. 

Blake  laughed  down  at  them.  "Well,  I  guess 
yes !  Once  hoisted  a  fellow  out  of  a  fifty-foot 
prospect  hole  —  big  fat  Dutchman  at  that.  You 
don't  weigh  over  a  hundred  and  twenty." 

He  had  stretched  out  across  the  broadest  part  of 
the  branch.  As  Miss  Leslie  seated  herself  in  the 
loop,  he  reached  down  and  began  to  haul  up  on 
the  creeper,  hand  over  hand.  Though  frightened 
by  the  novel  manner  of  ascent,  the  girl  clung 
tightly  to  the  line  above  her  head,  and  Blake  had 
no  difficulty  in  raising  her  until  she  swung  directly 
beneath  him.  Here,  however,  he  found  himself 
in  a  quandary.  The  girl  seemed  as  helpless  as  a 
child,  and  he  was  lying  flat.  How  could  he  lift 
her  above  the  level  of  the  branch  ? 

"  Take  hold  the  other  line,"  he  said.  The  girl 
hesitated.  "Do  you  hear?  Grab  it  quick,  and 
pull  up  hard,  if  you  don't  want  a  tumble !  " 

[62] 


THE     RE-ASCENT    OF     MAN 

The  girl  seized  the  part  of  the  creeper  which 
was  fastened  above,  and  drew  herself  up  with 
convulsive  energy.  Instantly  Blake  rose  to  his 
knees,  and  grasping  the  taut  creeper  with  one 
hand,  reached  down  with  the  other,  to  swing  the 
girl  up  beside  him  on  the  branch. 

"  All  right,  Miss  Jenny,"  he  reassured  her  as 
he  felt  her  tremble.  "  Sorry  to  scare  you,  but  I 
could  n't  have  made  it  without.  Now,  if  you  '11 
just  hold  down  my  legs,  we  '11  soon  hoist  his 
ludship." 

He  had  seated  her  in  the  broadest  part  of  the 
shallow  hollow,  where  the  branch  joined  the  main 
trunk  of  the  fig.  Heaped  with  the  reeds  which 
he  had  gathered  during  the  afternoon,  it  made 
such  a  cozy  shelter  that  she  at  once  forgot  her 
dizziness  and  fright.  Nestling  among  the  reeds, 
she  leaned  over  and  pressed  down  on  his  ankles 
with  all  her  strength. 

The  loose  end  of  the  creeper  had  fallen  to  the 
ground  when  Blake  lifted  her  upon  the  branch, 
and  Winthrope  was  already  slipping  into  the 
loop.  Blake  ordered  him  to  take  it  off,  and  send 
up  the  club.  As  the  creeper  was  again  flung 
down,  a  black  shadow  swept  over  the  jungle. 

"Hello!  Sunset!  "called  Blake.  "  Look  sharp, 
there ! " 

"  All  ready,"  responded  Winthrope. 
[63] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Blake  drew  in  a  full  breath,  and  began  to  hoist. 
The  position  was  an  awkward  one,  and  Winthrope 
weighed  thirty  or  forty  pounds  more  than  Miss 
Leslie.  But  as  the  Englishman  came  within 
reach  of  the  descending  loop,  he  grasped  it  and 
did  what  he  could  to  ease  Blake's  efforts.  A  few 
moments  found  him  as  high  above  the  ground 
as  Blake  could  raise  him.  Without  waiting  for 
orders,  he  swung  himself  upon  the  upper  part 
of  the  creeper,  and  climbed  the  last  few  feet 
unaided.  Blake  grunted  with  satisfaction  as  he 
pulled  him  in  upon  the  branch. 

"You  may  do,  after  all,"  he  said.  "At  any 
rate,  we  're  all  aboard  for  the  night ;  and  none 
too  soon.  Hear  that !  " 

"What?" 

"  Lion,  I  guess —  Not  that  yelping.    Listen  ! " 

The  brief  twilight  was  already  fading  into  the 
darkness  of  a  moonless  night,  and  as  the  three 
crouched  together  in  their  shallow  nest,  they  were 
soon  made  audibly  aware  of  the  savage  nature  of 
their  surroundings.  With  the  gathering  night 
the  jungle  wakened  into  full  life.  From  all  sides 
came  the  harsh  squawking  of  birds,  the  weird 
cries  of  monkeys  and  other  small  creatures,  the 
crash  of  heavy  animals  moving  through  the 
jungle,  and  above  all  the  yelp  and  howl  and  roar 
of  beasts  of  prey. 

[64] 


THE     RE-ASCENT    OF     MAN 

After  some  contention  with  Winthrope,  Blake 
conceded  that  the  roars  of  his  lion  might  be 
nothing  worse  than  the  snorting  of  the  hippopot 
ami  as  they  came  out  to  browse  for  the  night. 
In  this,  however,  there  was  small  comfort,  since 
Winthrope  presently  reasserted  his  belief  in  the 
climbing  ability  of  leopards,  and  expressed  his 
opinion  that,  whether  or  not  there  were  lions  in 
the  neighborhood,  certain  of  the  barking  roars 
they  could  hear  came  from  the  throats  of  the 
spotted  climbers.  Even  Blake's  hair  bristled  as 
his  imagination  pictured  one  of  the  great  cats 
creeping  upon  them  in  the  darkness  from  the  far 
end  of  their  nest  limb,  or  leaping  down  out  of 
the  upper  branches. 

The  nerves  of  all  three  were  at  their  highest 
tension  when  a  dark  form  swept  past  through  the 
air  within  a  yard  of  their  faces.  Miss  Leslie 
uttered  a  stifled  scream,  and  Blake  brandished  his 
club.  But  Winthrope,  who  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  creature's  shape,  broke  into  a  nervous 
laugh. 

"  It 's  only  a  fruit  bat,  "  he  explained.  "  They 
feed  on  the  banyan  figs,  you  know." 

In  the  reaction  from  this  false  alarm,  both  men 

relaxed,  and  began  to  yield  to  the  effects  of  the 

tramp  across  the  mud-flats.     Arranging  the  reeds 

as  best  they  could,  they  stretched  out  on  either 

5  [65  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

side  of  Miss  Leslie,  and  fell  asleep  in  the  middle 
of  an  argument  on  how  the  prospective  leopard 
was  most  likely  to  attack. 

Miss  Leslie  remained  awake  for  two  or  three 
hours  longer.  Naturally  she  was  more  nervous 
than  her  companions,  and  she  had  been  refreshed 
by  her  afternoon's  nap.  Her  nervousness  was 
not  entirely  due  to  the  wild  beasts.  Though 
Blake  had  taken  pains  to  secure  himself  and  his 
companions  in  loops  of  the  creeper,  fastened  to 
the  branch  above,  Winthrope  moved  about  so 
restlessly  in  his  sleep  that  the  girl  feared  he 
would  roll  from  the  hollow. 

At  last  her  limbs  became  so  cramped  that  she 
was  compelled  to  change  her  position.  She 
leaned  back  upon  her  elbow,  determined  to  rise 
again  and  maintain  her  watch  the  moment  she 
was  rested.  But  sleep  was  close  upon  her. 
There  was  a  lull  in  the  louder  noises  of  the 
jungle.  Her  eyes  closed,  and  her  head  sank 
lower.  In  a  little  time  it  was  lying  upon  Win- 
thrope's  shoulder,  and  she  was  fast  asleep. 

As  Blake  had  asserted,  the  mosquitoes  had 
either  been  blown  away  by  the  cyclone,  or  did 
not  fly  to  such  a  height.  None  came  to  trouble 
the  exhausted  sleepers. 


[66] 


CHAPTER  VI 
MAN    AND    GENTLEMAN 

NIGHT  had  almost  passed,  and  all  three, 
soothed  by  the  refreshing  coolness  which 
preceded  the  dawn,  were  sleeping  their 
soundest,  when  a  sudden  fierce  roar  followed 
instantly  by  a  piercing  squeal  caused  even  Blake 
to  start  up  in  panic.  Miss  Leslie,  too  terrified  to 
scream,  clung  to  Winthrope,  who  crouched  on  his 
haunches,  little  less  overcome. 

Blake  was  the  first  to  recover  and  puzzle  out 
the  meaning  of  the  crashing  in  the  jungle  and  the 
ferocious  growls  directly  beneath  them. 

"  Lie  still,"  he  whispered.  "  We  're  all  right. 
It's  only  a  beast  that's  killed  something  down 
below  us." 

All  sat  listening,  and  as  the  noise  of  the  animals 
in  the  thicket  died  away,  they  could  hear  the 
beast  beneath  them  tear  at  the  body  of  its  victim. 

"  The  air  feels  like  dawn,"  whispered  Win- 
thrope.  "  We  '11  soon  be  able  to  see  the  brute." 

"  And  he  us,"  rejoined  Blake. 

In  this  both  were  mistaken.  During  the  brief 
[67] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

false  dawn  they  were  puzzled  by  the  odd  appear 
ance  of  the  ground.  The  sudden  flood  of  full 
daylight  found  them  staring  down  into  a  dense 
white  fog. 

"  So  they  have  that  here  ! "  muttered  Blake  — 
"  fever-fog ! " 

"  Beastly  shame !  "  echoed  Winthrope.  "  I  'm 
sure  the  creature  has  gone  off." 

This  assertion  was  met  by  an  outburst  of  snarls 
and  yells  that  made  all  start  back  and  crouch 
down  again  in  their  sheltering  hollow.  As  before, 
Blake  was  the  first  to  recover. 

"  Bet  you  're  right,"  he  said.  "  The  big  one 
has  gone  off,  and  a  pack  of  these  African  coyotes 
are  having  a  scrap  over  the  bones." 

"  You  mean  jackals.  It  sounds  like  the  nasty 
beasts." 

"  If  it  was  n't  for  that  fog,  I  'd  go  down  and  get 
our  share  of  the  game." 

"  Would  it  not  be  very  dangerous,  Mr.  Blake!  " 
asked  Miss  Leslie.  "  What  a  fearful  noise !  " 

"  I  've  chased  coyotes  off  a  calf  with  a  rope ; 
but  that's  not  the  proposition.  You  don't  find 
me  fooling  around  in  that  sewer  gas  of  a  fog. 
We  '11  roost  right  where  we  are  till  the  sun  does 
for  it.  We  've  got  enough  malaria  in  us  already." 

"Will  it  be  long,  Blake  I"  asked  Winthrope. 

"  Huh  ?  Getting  hungry  this  quick  I  Wait  till 
[68] 


MAN    AND     GENTLEMAN 

you've  tramped  around  a  week,  with  nothing  to 
eat  but  your  shoes." 

"  Surely,  Mr.  Blake,  it  will  not  be  so  bad ! " 
protested  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Sorry,  Miss  Jenny ;  but  cocoanut  palms  don't 
blow  over  every  day,  and  when  those  nuts  are 
gone,  what  are  we  going  to  do  for  the  next 
meal  I " 

11  Could  we  not  make  bows  ?  "  suggested  Win- 
thrope.  "  There  seems  to  be  no  end  of  game 
about." 

"  Bows  —  and  arrows  without  points  !  Neither 
of  us  could  hit  a  barn  door,  anyway." 

"  We  could  practise." 

"  Sure  —  six  weeks'  training  on  air  pudding. 
I  can  do  better  with  a  handful  of  stones." 

"  Then  we  should  go  at  once  to  the  cliffs,"  said 
Miss  Leslie. 

"  Now  you  're  talking  —  and  it 's  Pike  Peak  or 
bust,  for  ours.  Here's  one  night  to  the  good; 
but  we  won't  last  many  more  if  we  don't  get  fire. 
It 's  flints  we  're  after  now." 

" Could  we  not  make  fire  by  rubbing  sticks? " 
said  Winthrope,  recalling  his  suggestion  of  the 
previous  morning.  "  I  've  heard  that  natives 
have  no  trouble  —  " 

"  So  've  I,  and  what 's  more,  I  've  seen  'em  do 
it.  Never  could  make  a  go  of  it  myself,  though." 

[69] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  But  if  you  remember  how  it  is  done,  we  have 
at  least  some  chance  —  " 

"  Give  you  ten  to  one  odds !  No ;  we  '11 
scratch  around  for  a  flint  good  and  plenty  before 
we  waste  time  that  way." 

"  The  mist  is  going,"  observed  Miss  Leslie. 

"  That 's  no  lie.  Now  for  our  coyotes.  Where 's 
my  club  ?  " 

"They've  all  left,"  said  Winthrope,  peering 
down.  "  I  can  see  the  ground  clearly,  and  there 
is  not  a  sign  of  the  beasts." 

"There  are  the  bones  —  what's  left  of  them," 
added  Blake.  "It's  a  small  deer,  I  suppose. 
Well,  here  goes." 

He  threw  down  his  club,  and  dropped  the  loose 
end  of  the  creeper  after  it.  As  the  line  straight 
ened,  he  twisted  the  upper  part  around  his  leg, 
and  was  about  to  slide  to  the  ground,  when  he 
remembered  Miss  Leslie. 

"Think  you  can  m;ike  it  alone?  "  he  asked. 

The  girl  held  up  her  hands,  sore  and  swollen 
from  the  lacerations  of  the  thorns.  Blake  looked 
at  them,  frowned,  and  turned  to  Winthrope. 

"  Urn !  you  got  it,  too,  and  in  the  face,"  he 
grunted.  "  How 's  your  ankle  I " 

Winthrope  wriggled  his  foot  about,  and  felt  the 
injured  ankle. 

"I  fancy  it  is  much  better,"  he  answered. 
[70] 


MAN     AND     GENTLEMAN 

"  There  seems  to  be  no  swelling,  and  there  is  no 
pain  now." 

"That's  lucky;  though  it  will  tune  up  later. 
Take  a  slide,  now.  We've  got  to  hustle  our 
breakfast,  and  find  a  way  to  get  over  the  river." 

"How  wide  is  it  1"  inquired  Winthrope,  gaz 
ing  at  his  swollen  hands. 

"About  three  hundred  yards  at  high  tide. 
May  be  narrower  at  ebb." 

"  Could  you  not  build  a  raft? "  suggested  Miss 
Leslie. 

Blake  smiled  at  her  simplicity.  "  Why  not  a 
boat  ?  We  've  got  a  penknife." 

"Well,  then,  I  can  swim." 

"  Bully  for  you !  Guess,  though,  we  '11  try 
something  else.  The  river  is  chuck  full  of  alliga 
tors.  What  you  waiting  for,  Pat  ?  We  have  n't 
got  all  day  to  fool  around  here." 

Winthrope  twisted  the  creeper  about  his  leg 
and  slid  to  the  ground,  doing  all  he  could  to  favor 
his  hands.  He  found  that  he  could  walk  without 
pain,  and  at  once  stepped  over  beside  Blake's 
club,  glancing  nervously  around  at  the  jungle. 

Blake  jerked  up  the  end  of  the  creeper,  and 
passed  the  loop  about  Miss  Leslie.  Before  she 
had  time  to  become  frightened,  he  swung  her 
over  and  lowered  her  to  the  ground  lightly  as  a 
feather.  He  followed,  hand  under  hand,  and 

[71] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

stood  for  a  moment  beside  her,  staring  at  the 
dew-dripping-  foliage  of  the  jungle.  Then  the  re 
mains  of  the  night's  quarry  caught  his  eye,  and 
he  walked  over  to  examine  them. 

"Say,  Pat,"  he  called,  "these  don't  look  like 
deer  bones.  I'd  say  —  yes;  there's  the  feet  — 
it's  a  pig." 

"  Any  tusks  I  "  demanded  Winthrope. 

Miss  Leslie  looked  away.  A  heap  of  bones, 
however  cleanly  gnawed,  is  not  a  pleasant  sight. 
The  skull  of  the  animal  seemed  to  be  missing; 
but  Blake  stumbled  upon  it  in  a  tuft  of  grass, 
and  kicked  it  out  upon  the  open  ground.  Every 
shred  of  hide  and  gristle  had  been  gnawed  from 
it  by  the  jackals ;  yet  if  there  had  been  any 
doubt  as  to  the  creature 's  identity,  there  was  evi 
dence  to  spare  in  the  savage  tusks  which  pro 
jected  from  the  jaws. 

"  Je-rusalem !  "  observed  Blake  ;  "  this  old 
boar  must  have  been  something  of  a  scrapper  his 
own  self." 

"In  India  they  have  been  known  to  kill  a 
tiger.  Can  you  knock  out  the  tusks  ? " 

"What  for?" 

"  Well,  you  said  we  had  nothing  for  arrow 
points  —  " 

"  Good  boy !  We  '11  cinch  them,  and  ask 
questions  later." 

[72] 


MAN    AND     GENTLEMAN 

A  few  blows  with  the  club  loosened  the  tusks. 
Blake  handed  them  over  to  Winthrope,  together 
with  the  whiskey  flask,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
half-broken  path  through  the  thicket.  A  free 
use  of  his  club  made  the  path  a  little  more 
worthy  of  the  name,  and  as  there  was  less  need 
of  haste  than  on  the  previous  evening,  Winthrope 
and  Miss  Leslie  came  through  with  only  a  few 
fresh  scratches.  Once  on  open  ground  again, 
they  soon  gained  the  fallen  palms. 

At  a  word  from  Blake,  Miss  Leslie  hastened 
to  fetch  nuts  for  Winthrope  to  husk  and  open. 
Blake,  who  had  plucked  three  leaves  from  a  fan 
palm  near  the  edge  of  the  jungle,  began  to  split 
long  shreds  from  one  of  the  huge  leaves  of  a 
cocoanut  palm.  This  gave  him  a  quantity  of 
coarse,  stiff  fibre,  part  of  which  he  twisted  in  a 
cord  and  used  to  tie  one  of  the  leaves  of  the  fan 
palm  over  his  head. 

"  How 's  that  for  a  bonnet !  "  he  demanded. 

The  improvised  head-gear  bore  so  grotesque  a 
resemblance  to  a  recent  type  of  picture  hat  that 
Winthrope  could  not  repress  a  derisive  laugh. 
Miss  Leslie,  however,  examined  the  hat  and  gave 
her  opinion  without  a  sign  of  amusement.  "I 
think  it  is  splendid,  Mr.  Blake.  If  we  must  go 
out  in  the  sun  again,  it  is  just  the  thing  to  protect 
one." 

[73] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Yes.  Here 's  two  more  I  've  fixed  for  you. 
Ready  yet,  Winthrope  ?  " 

The  Englishman  nodded,  and  the  three  sat 
down  to  their  third  feast  of  cocoanuts.  They 
were  hungry  enough  at  the  start,  and  Blake 
added  no  little  keenness  even  to  his  own  appetite 
by  a  grim  joke  on  the  slender  prospects  of  the 
next  meal,  to  the  effect  that,  if  in  the  meantime 
not  eaten  themselves,  they  might  possibly  find 
their  next  meal  within  a  week. 

"  But  if  we  must  move,  could  we  not  take 
some  of  the  nuts  with  us  ?  "  suggested  Winthrope. 

Blake  pondered  over  this  as  he  ate,  and  when, 
fully  satisfied,  he  helped  himself  up  with  his  club, 
he  motioned  the  others  to  remain  seated. 

"There  are  your  hats  and  the  strings,"  he 
said,  "  but  you  won't  need  them  now.  I  'm  go 
ing  to  take  a  prospect  along  the  river ;  and  while 
I  'm  gone,  you  can  make  a  try  at  stringing  nuts 
on  some  of  this  leaf  fibre." 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,  do  you  think  it  's  quite 
safe  1 "  asked  Miss  Leslie,  and  she  glanced  from 
him  to  the  jungle. 

"Safe?"  he  repeated.  "Well,  nothing  ate 
you  yesterday,  if  that 's  anything  to  go  by.  It 's 
all  I  know  about  it." 

He  did  not  wait  for  further  protests.  Swing 
ing  his  club  on  his  shoulder,  he  started  for  the 

[74] 


MAN    AND    GENTLEMAN 

break  in  the  jungle  which  marked  the  hippopota 
mus  path.  The  others  looked  at  each  other,  and 
Miss  Leslie  sighed. 

"  If  only  he  were  a  gentleman !  "  she  com 
plained. 

Winthrope  turned  abruptly  to  the  cocoanuts. 


[751 


CHAPTER  VII 
AROUND  THE  HEADLAND 

IT  was  mid  morning  before  Blake  reappeared. 
He  came  from  the  mangrove  swamp  where 
it  ran  down  into  the  sea.     His  trousers  were 
smeared  to  the  thigh  with  slimy  mud ;  but  as  he 
approached,  the  drooping  brim  of  his  palm-leaf 
hat  failed  to  hide  his  exultant  expression. 

"Come  on  !  "  he  called.  "  I  've  struck  it.  We  '11 
be  over  in  half  an  hour." 

"  How  's  that  ?  "  asked  Winthrope. 

"  Bar,"  answered  Blake,  hurrying  forward. 
"  Sling  on  your  hats,  and  get  into  my  coat  again, 
Miss  Jenny.  The  sun 's  hot  as  yesterday.  How 
about  the  nuts  ?  " 

"  Here  they  are.  Three  strings ;  all  that  I 
fancied  we  could  carry,"  explained  Winthrope. 

"  All  right.  The  big  one  is  mine,  I  suppose. 
I  '11  take  two.  We  '11  leave  the  other.  Lean  on 
me,  if  your  ankle  is  still  weak." 

"  Thanks ;  I  can  make  it  alone.  But  must  we 
go  through  mud  like  that  I  " 

[76] 


AROUND     THE     HEADLAND 

"  Not  on  this  side,  at  least.  Come  on !  We 
don't  want  to  miss  the  ebb." 

Blake's  impatience  discouraged  further  inquiries. 
He  had  turned  as  he  spoke,  and  the  others  fol 
lowed  him,  walking  close  together.  The  pace 
was  sharp  for  Winthrope,  and  his  ankle  soon 
began  to  twinge.  He  was  compelled  to  accept 
Miss  Leslie's  invitation  to  take  her  arm.  With 
her  help,  he  managed  to  keep  within  a  few  yards 
of  Blake. 

Instead  of  plunging  into  the  mangrove  wood, 
which  here  was  undergrown  with  a  thicket  of 
giant  ferns,  Blake  skirted  around  in  the  open 
until  they  came  to  the  seashore.  The  tide  was  at 
its  lowest,  and  he  waved  his  club  towards  a  long 
sand  spit  which  curved  out  around  the  seaward 
edge  of  the  mangroves.  Whether  this  was  part 
of  the  river's  bar,  or  had  been  heaped  up  by 
the  cyclone  would  have  been  beyond  Winthrope's 
knowledge,  had  the  question  occurred  to  him.  It 
was  enough  for  him  that  the  sand  was  smooth  and 
hard  as  a  race  track. 

Presently  the  party  came  to  the  end  of  the  spit, 
where  the  river  water  rippled  over  the  sand  with 
the  last  feeble  out-suck  of  the  ebb.  On  their 
right  they  had  a  sweeping  view  of  the  river, 
around  the  flank  of  the  mangrove  screen.  Blake 
halted  at  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  half  turned. 

[77] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"Close  up,"  he  said.  "It's  shallow  enough; 
6ut  do  you  see  those  logs  over  on  the  mud-bank  ? 
Those  are  alligators." 

" Mercy!  — and  you  expect  me  to  wade  among 
such  creatures  ?  "  cried  Miss  Leslie. 

"  I  went  almost  across  an  hour  ago,  and  they 
did  n't  bother  me  any.  Come  on  !  There  's  wind 
in  that  cloud  out  seaward.  Inside  half  an  hour 
the  surf  '11  be  rolling  up  on  this  bar  like  all 
Niagara." 

"  If  we  must,  we  must,  Miss  Genevieve,"  urged 
Winthrope.  "  Step  behind  me,  and  gather  up 
your  skirts.  It's  best  to  keep  one's  clothes  dry 
in  the  tropics." 

The  girl  blushed,  and  retained  his  arm. 

"  I  prefer  to  help  you,"  she  replied. 

"  Come  on  !  "  called  Blake,  and  he  splashed  out 
into  the  water. 

The  others  followed  within  arm's-length,  ner 
vously  conscious  of  the  rows  of  motionless  reptiles 
on  the  mud-flat,  not  a  hundred  yards  distant. 

In  the  centre  of  the  bar,  where  the  water  was  a 
trifle  over  knee-deep,  some  large  creature  came 
darting  down-stream  beneath  the  surface,  and 
passed  with  a  violent  swirl  between  Blake  and 
his  companions.  At  Miss  Leslie's  scream,  Blake 
whirled  about  and  jabbed  with  his  club  at  the 
supposed  alligator. 

[78] 


AROUND    THE     HEADLAND 

"Where's  the  brute?  Has  he  got  you?"  he 
shouted. 

"  No,  no ;  he  went  by !  "  gasped  Winthrope. 
"  There  he  is  !  " 

A  long  bony  snout,  fringed  on  either  side  by  a 
row  of  lateral  teeth,  was  flung  up  into  view. 

"  Sawfish  !  "  said  Blake,  and  he  waded  on  across 
the  bar,  without  further  comment. 

Miss  Leslie  had  been  on  the  point  of  faint 
ing.  The  tone  of  Blake's  voice  revived  her 
instantly. 

There  were  no  more  scares.  A  few  minutes 
later  they  waded  out  upon  a  stretch  of  clean  sand 
on  the  south  side  of  the  river.  Before  them  the 
beach  lay  in  a  flattened  curve,  which  at  the  far 
end  hooked  sharply  to  the  left,  and  appeared  to 
terminate  at  the  foot  of  the  towering  limestone 
cliffs  of  the  headland.  A  mile  or  more  inland 
the  river  jungle  edged  in  close  to  the  cliffs;  but 
from  there  to  the  beach  the  forest  was  separated 
from  the  wall  of  rock  by  a  little  sandy  plain, 
covered  with  creeping  plants  and  small  palms. 
The  greatest  width  of  the  open  space  was  hardly 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

Blake  paused  for  a  moment  at  high-tide  mark, 
and  Winthrope  instantly  squatted  down  to  nurse 
his  ankle. 

"I  say,  Blake,"  he  said,  "can't  you  find  me 
[79] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

some  kind  of  a  crutch  ?     It  is  only  a  few  yards 
around  to  those  trees." 

"  Good  Lord  !  you  have  n't  been  fool  enough  to 
overstrain  that  ankle  —  Yes,  you  have.  Dammit ! 
why  could  n't  you  tell  me  hefore  ?  " 

"  It  did  not  feel  so  painful  in  the  water." 

"  I  helped  the  best  I  could,"  interposed  Miss 
Leslie.  "  I  think  if  you  could  get  Mr.  Winthrope 
a  crutch  —  " 

"  Crutch  !  "  growled  Blake.  "  How  long  do 
you  think  it  would  take  me  to  wade  through  the 
mud?  And  look  at  that  cloud!  We're  in  for 
a  squall.  Here  ! " 

He  handed  the  girl  the  smaller  string  of  cocoa- 
nuts,  flung  the  other  up  the  beach,  and  stooped 
for  Winthrope  to  mount  his  back.  He  then 
started  off  along  the  beach  at  a  sharp  trot.  Miss 
Leslie  followed  as  best  she  could,  the  heavy 
cocoanuts  swinging  about  with  every  step  and 
bruising  her  tender  body. 

The  wind  was  coming  faster  than  Blake  had 
calculated.  Before  they  had  run  two  hundred 
paces,  they  heard  the  roar  of  rain-lashed  water, 
and  the  squall  struck  them  with  a  force  that 
almost  overthrew  the  girl.  With  the  wind  came 
torrents  of  rain  that  drove  through  their  thickest 
garments  and  drenched  them  to  the  skin  within 
the  first  half-minute. 

[80] 


AROUND     THE     HEADLAND 

Blake  slackened  his  pace  to  a  walk,  and 
plodded  sullenly  along  beneath  the  driving  down- 
pour.  He  kept  to  the  lower  edge  of  the  beach, 
where  the  sand  was  firmest,  for  the  force  of  the 
falling  deluge  beat  down  the  waves  and  held  in 
check  the  breakers  which  the  wind  sought  to  roll 
up  the  beach. 

The  rain  storm  was  at  its  height  when  they 
reached  the  foot  of  the  cliffs.  The  gray  rock 
towered  above  them,  thirty  or  forty  feet  high. 
Blake  deposited  Winthrope  upon  a  wet  ledge,  and 
straightened  up  to  scan  the  headland.  Here  and 
there  ledges  ran  more  than  half-way  up  the  rocky 
wall ;  in  other  places  the  crest  was  notched  by 
deep  clefts;  but  nowhere  within  sight  did  either 
offer  a  continuous  path  to  the  summit.  Blake 
grunted  with  disgust. 

"  It  'd  take  a  fire  ladder  to  get  up  this  side,"  he 
said.  "  We  '11  have  to  try  the  other,  if  we  can 
get  around  the  point.  I  'm  going  on  ahead.  You 
can  follow,  after  Pat  has  rested  his  ankle.  Keep 
a  sharp  eye  out  for  anything  in  the  flint  line  — 
quartz  or  agate.  That  means  fire.  Another 
thing,  when  this  rain  blows  over,  don't  let  your 
clothes  dry  on  you.  I've  got  my  hands  full 
enough,  without  having  to  nurse  you  through 
malarial  fever.  Don't  forget  the  cocoanuts,  and 
if  I  don't  show  up  by  noon,  save  me  some." 
6  [81] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

He  stooped  to  drink  from  a  pool  in  the  rock 
which  was  overflowing  with  the  cool,  pure  rain 
water,  and  started  off  at  his  sharpest  pace. 
Winthrope  and  Miss  Leslie,  seated  side  by  side 
in  dripping  misery,  watched  him  swing  away 
through  the  rain,  without  energy  enough  to  call 
out  a  parting  word. 

Beneath  the  cliff  the  sand  beach  was  succeeded 
by  a  talus  of  rocky  debris  which  in  places  sloped 
up  from  the  water  ten  or  fifteen  feet.  The  lower 
part  of  the  slope  consisted  of  boulders  and  water- 
worn  stones,  over  which  the  surf,  reinforced  by 
the  rising  tide,  was  beginning  to  break  with  an 
angry  roar. 

Blake  picked  his  way  quickly  over  the  smaller 
stones  near  the  top  of  the  slope,  now  and  then 
bending  to  snatch  up  a  fragment  that  seemed  to 
differ  from  the  others.  Finding  nothing  but  lime 
stone,  he  soon  turned  his  attention  solely  to  the 
passage  around  the  headland.  Here  he  had  ex 
pected  to  find  the  surf  much  heavier.  But  the 
shore  was  protected  by  a  double  line  of  reefs,  so 
close  in  that  the  channel  between  did  not  show  a 
whitecap.  This  was  fortunate,  since  in  places  the 
talus  here  sank  down  almost  to  the  level  of  low 
tide.  Even  a  moderate  surf  would  have  rendered 
farther  progress  impracticable. 

Another  hundred  paces  brought  Blake  to  the 
[82] 


AROUND     THE     HEADLAND 

second  corner  of  the  cliff,  which  jutted  out  in  a 
little  point.  He  clambered  around  it,  and  stopped 
to  survey  the  coast  beyond.  Within  the  last  few 
minutes  the  squall  had  blown  over,  and  the  rain 
began  to  moderate  its  down-pour.  The  sun, 
bursting  through  the  clouds,  told  that  the  storm 
was  almost  past,  and  its  flood  of  direct  light 
cleared  the  view. 

Along  the  south  side  of  the  cliff  the  sea  ex 
tended  in  twice  as  far  as  on  the  north.  From  the 
end  of  the  talus  the  coast  trended  off  four  or  five 
miles  to  the  south-southwest  in  a  shallow  bight, 
whose  southern  extremity  was  bounded  by  a 
second  limestone  headland.  This  ridge  ran  inland 
parallel  to  the  first,  and  from  a  point  some  little 
distance  back  from  the  shore  was  covered  with  a 
growth  of  leafless  trees. 

Between  the  two  ridges  lay  a  plain,  open  along 
the  shore,  but  a  short  distance  inland  covered 
with  a  jungle  of  tall  yellow  grass,  above  which, 
here  and  there,  rose  the  tops  of  scrubby,  leafless 
trees  and  the  graceful  crests  of  slender-shafted 
palms.  Blake's  attention  was  drawn  to  the  lat 
ter  by  that  feeling  of  artificiality  which  their 
exotic  appearance  so  often  wakens  in  the  mind 
of  the  Northern-bred  man  even  after  long  res 
idence  in  the  tropics.  But  in  a  moment  he 
turned  away,  with  a  growl.  "  More  of  those 

[83] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

darned   feather-dusters ! "     He   was   not   looking 
for  palms. 

The  last  ragged  bit  of  cloud,  with  its  showery 
accompaniment,  drifted  past  before  the  breeze 
which  followed  the  squall,  and  the  end  of  the 
storm  was  proclaimed  by  a  deafening  chorus  of 
squawks  and  screams  along  the  higher  ledges  of 
the  cliff.  Staring  upward,  Blake  for  the  first  time 
observed  that  the  face  of  the  cliff  swarmed  with 
seafowl. 

"That's  luck!"  he  muttered.  "  Guess  I  have  n't 
forgot  how  to  rob  nests.  Bet  our  fine  lady  '11  shy 
at  sucking  them  raw  !  All  the  same,  she  '11  have 
to,  if  I  don't  run  across  other  rock  than  this,  poor 
girl ! " 

He  advanced  again  along  the  talus,  and  did  not 
stop  until  he  reached  the  sand  beach.  There  he 
halted  to  make  a  careful  examination,  not  only  of 
the  loose  debris,  but  of  the  solid  rock  above. 
Finding  no  sign  of  flint  or  quartz,  he  growled  out 
a  curse,  and  backed  off  along  the  beach,  to  get  a 
view  of  the  cliff  top.  From  a  point  a  little  be 
yond  him,  outward  to  the  extremity  of  the  head 
land,  he  could  see  that  the  upper  ledges  and  the 
crest  of  the  cliff,  as  well,  were  fairly  crowded 
with  seafowl  and  their  nests.  His  smile  of  satis 
faction  broadened  when  he  glanced  inland  and 
saw,  less  than  half  a  mile  distant,  a  wooded  cleft 

[84] 


AROUND    THE     HEADLAND 

which  apparently  ran  up  to  the  summit  of  the 
ridge.  From  a  point  near  the  top  a  gigantic 
baobab  tree  towered  up  against  the  skyline  like 
a  Brobdingnagian  cabbage. 

"  Say,  we  may  have  a  run  for  our  money, 
after  all,"  he  murmured.  "  Shade,  and  no  end 
of  grub,  and,  by  the  green  of  those  trees,  a 
spring  —  limestone  water  at  that.  Next  thing, 
I  '11  find  a  flint !  " 

He  slapped  his  leg,  and  both  sound  and  feeling 
reminded  him  that  his  clothes  were  drenched. 

"  Guess  we  '11  wait  about  that  flint,"  he  said, 
and  he  made  for  a  clump  of  thorn  scrub  a  little 
way  inland. 

As  the  tall  grass  did  not  grow  here  within  a 
mile  of  the  shore,  there  was  nothing  to  obstruct 
him.  The  creeping  plants  which  during  the 
rainy  season  had  matted  over  the  sandy  soil 
were  now  leafless  and  withered  by  the  heat  of 
the  dry  season.  Even  the  thorn  scrub  was  half 
bare  of  leaves. 

Blake  walked  around  the  clump  to  the  shadiest 
side,  and  began  to  strip.  In  quick  succession, 
one  garment  after  another  was  flung  across  a 
branch  where  the  sun  would  strike  it.  Last 
of  all,  the  slices  were  emptied  of  rainwater  and 
set  out  to  dry.  Without  a  pause,  he  then  gave 
himself  a  quick,  light  rub-down,  just  sufficient  to 

[85] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

invigorate  the  skin  without  starting  the  perspira 
tion. 

Physically  the  man  was  magnificent.  His 
muscles  were  wiry  and  compact,  rather  than 
bulky,  and  as  he  moved,  they  played  beneath 
his  white  skin  with  the  smoothness  and  ease  of  a 
tiger's. 

After  the  rub-down,  he  squatted  on  his  heels, 
and  spent  some  time  trying  to  bend  his  palm-leaf 
hat  back  into  shape.  When  he  had  placed  this 
also  out  in  the  sun,  he  found  himself  beginning 
to  yawn.  The  dry,  sultry  air  had  made  him 
drowsy.  A  touch  with  his  bare  foot  showed  him 
that  the  sand  beneath  the  thorn  bush  had  already 
absorbed  the  rain  and  offered  a  dry  surface. 
He  glanced  around,  drew  his  club  nearer,  and 
stretched  himself  out  for  a  nap. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE   CLUB   AGE 

IT  was  past  two  o'clock  when  the  sun,  striking 
in  where  Blake  lay  outstretched,  began  to 
scorch  one  of  his  legs.     He  stirred  uneasily, 
and   sat   upright.     Like   a  sailor,    he   was   wide 
awake   the   moment   he   opened   his   eyes.      He 
stood   up,   and  peered  around  through  the  half 
leafless  branches. 

Over  the  water  thousands  of  gulls  and  terns, 
boobies  and  cormorants  were  skimming  and  div 
ing,  while  above  them  a  number  of  graceful 
frigate  birds  —  those  swart,  scarlet-throated  pi 
rates  of  the  air,  —  hung  poised,  ready  to  swoop 
down  and  rob  the  weaker  birds  of  their  fish.  All 
about  the  headland  and  the  surrounding  water 
was  life  in  fullest  action.  Even  from  where  he 
stood  Blake  could  hear  the  harsh  clamor  of  the 
seafowl. 

In  marked  contrast  to  this  scene,  the  plain  was 
apparently  lifeless.  When  Blake  rose,  a  small 
brown  lizard  darted  away  across  the  sand.  Oth 
erwise  there  was  neither  sight  nor  sound  of  a 

[87] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

living  creature.  Blake  pondered  this  as  he  gath 
ered  his  clothes  into  the  shade  and  began  to 
dress. 

"  Looks  like  the  siesta  is  the  all-round  style  in 
this  God-forsaken  hole,"  he  grumbled.  "  Have  n't 
seen  so  much  as  a  rabbit,  nor  even  one  land  bird. 
May  be  a  drought  —  no ;  must  be  the  dry  sea 
son —  Whee,  these  things  are  hot !  I  'm  thirsty 
as  a  shark.  Now,  where 's  that  softy  and  her 
Ladyship  ?  'Fraid  she 's  in  for  a  tough  time  !  " 

He  drew  on  his  shoes  with  a  jerk,  growled  at 
their  stiffness,  and  club  in  hand,  stepped  clear  of 
the  brush  to  look  for  his  companions.  The  first 
glance  along  the  foot  of  the  cliff  showed  him 
Winthrope  lying  under  the  shade  of  the  over 
hanging  ledges,  a  few  yards  beyond  the  sand 
beach.  Of  Miss  Leslie  there  was  no  sign.  Half 
alarmed  by  this,  Blake  started  for  the  beach  with 
his  swinging  stride.  Winthrope  was  awake,  and 
on  Blake's  approach,  sat  up  to  greet  him. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  called.  "  Where  have  you  been 
all  this  time  ?  " 

"  '  Sleep.     Where 's  Miss  Leslie  ?  " 

"  She's  around  the  point." 

Blake  grinned  mockingly.  "  Indeed  !  But  I 
fawncy  she  won't  be  for  long." 

He  would  have  passed  on,  but  Winthrope 
stepped  before  him. 

[88] 


"  Don't  go  out  there,  Blake,"  he  protested. 
"I  —  ah  —  think  it  would  be  better  if  I  went." 

"  Why  ?  "  demanded  Blake. 

Winthrope  hesitated;  but  an  impatient  move 
ment  by  Blake  forced  an  answer:  "Well,  you 
remember,  this  morning,  telling  us  to  dry  our 
clothes." 

"Yes;  I  remember,"  said  Blake.  "So  you 
want  to  serve  as  lady's  valet  ?  " 

Winthrope's  plump  face  turned  a  sickly  yellow. 

"I  —  ah  —  valet?  —  What  do  you  mean,  sir? 
I  protest  —  I  do  not  understand  you!  "  he  stam 
mered.  But  in  the  midst,  catching  sight  of  Blake's 
bewildered  stare,  he  suddenly  flushed  crimson, 
and  burst  out  in  unrestrained  anger:  "You  — 
you  bounder  —  you  beastly  cad !  Any  man  with 
an  ounce  of  decency  —  " 

Blake  uttered  a  jeering  laugh —  "Wow! 
Hark,  how  the  British  lion  r-r-ro-ars  when  his 
tail's  twisted!" 

"You  beastly  cad!"  repeated  the  Englishman, 
now  purple  with  rage. 

Blake's  unpleasant  pleasantry  gave  place  to  a 
scowl.  His  jaw  thrust  out  like  a  bulldog's,  and 
he  bent  towards  Winthrope  with  a  menacing 
look.  For  a  moment  the  Englishman  faced  him, 
sustained  by  his  anger.  But  there  was  a  steely 
light  in  Blake's  eyes  that  he  could  not  withstand. 

[89] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Winthrope's  defiant  stare  wavered  and  fell.  He 
shrank  back,  the  color  fast  ebbing-  from  his  cheeks. 

"  Ugh  !  "  growled  Blake.  "  Guess  you  won't 
blat  any  more  about  cads  !  You  damned  hypo 
crite  !  Maybe  I  'm  not  on  to  how  you  've  been 
hanging  around  Miss  Leslie  just  because  she  's  an 
heiress.  Anything  is  fair  enough  for  you  swells. 
But  let  a  fellow  so  much  as  open  his  mouth  about 
your  exalted  set,  and  it 's  perfectly  dreadful,  you 
know!" 

He  paused  for  a  reply.  Winthrope  only  drew 
back  a  step  farther,  and  eyed  him  with  a  furtive, 
sidelong  glance.  This  brought  Blake  back  to 
his  mocking-  jeer.  "  You  '11  learn,  Pat,  me  b'y. 
There 's  lots  of  things  '11  show  up  different  to 
you  before  we  get  through  this  picnic.  For  one 
thing,  I'm  boss  here  —  president,  congress,  and 
supreme  court.  Understand!" 

"  By  what  right,  may  I  ask  ? "  murmured 
Winthrope. 

"  Right !  "  answered  Blake.  "  That  has  n't  any 
thing  to  do  with  the  question  —  it 's  might.  Back 
in  civilized  parts,  your  little  crowd  has  the  drop 
on  my  big  crowd,  and  runs  things  to  suit  them 
selves.  But  here  we  've  sort  of  reverted  to  primi 
tive  society.  This  happens  to  be  the  Club  Age, 
and  I  'm  the  Man  with  the  Big  Stick.  See  ?  " 

"  I  myself  sympathize  with  the  lower  classes, 
[90] 


THE     CLUB     AGE 

Mr.  Blake.  Above  all,  I  think  it  barbarous  the 
way  they  punish  one  who  is  forced  by  circum 
stances  to  appropriate  part  of  the  ill-gotten  gains 
of  the  rich  upstarts.  But  do  you  believe,  Mr. 
Blake,  that  brute  strength  —  " 

"  You  bet !  Now  shut  up.  Where  're  the 
cocoanuts I " 

Winthrope  picked  up  two  nuts  and  handed  them 
over. 

"  There  were  only  five,"  he  explained. 

"  All  right.     I  'm  no  captain  of  industry." 

"  Ah,  true ;  you  said  we  had  reverted  to  bar 
barism,"  rejoined  Winthrope,  venturing  an  at 
tempt  at  sarcasm. 

"  Lucky  for  you  !  "  retorted  Blake.  "  But 
where 's  Miss  Leslie  all  this  time  ?  Her  clothes 
must  have  dried  hours  ago." 

"They  did.  We  had  luncheon  together  just 
this  side  of  the  point." 

"  Oh,  you  did  !  Then  why  should  n't  I  go  for 
her?" 

"I  —  I  —  there  was  a  shaded  pool  around  the 
point,  and  she  thought  a  dip  in  the  salt  water 
would  refresh  her.  She  went  not  more  than  half 
an  hour  ago." 

"  So  that 's  it.  Well,  while  I  eat,  you  go  and 
call  her  —  and  say,  you  keep  this  side  the  point. 
I  'm  looking  out  for  Miss  Leslie  now." 

[91] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Winthrope  hurried  away,  clenching  his  fists 
and  almost  weeping  with  impotent  rage.  Truly, 
matters  were  now  very  different  from  what  they 
had  been  aboard  ship.  Fortunately  he  had  not 
gone  a  dozen  steps  before  Miss  Leslie  appeared 
around  the  corner  of  the  cliff.  He  was  scramb 
ling  along  over  the  loose  stones  of  the  slope  with 
out  the  slightest  consideration  for  his  ankle.  The 
girl,  more  thoughtful,  waved  to  him  to  wait  for 
her  where  he  was. 

As  she  approached,  Blake's  frown  gave  place 
to  a  look  that  made  his  face  positively  pleasant. 
He  had  already  drained  the  cocoanuts ;  now  he 
proceeded  to  smash  the  shells  into  small  bits,  that 
he  might  eat  the  meat,  and  at  the  same  time 
keep  his  gaze  on  the  girl.  The  cliff  foot  being 
well  shaded  by  the  towering  wall  of  rock,  she 
had  taken  off  his  coat,  and  was  carrying  it  on  her 
arm  ;  so  that  there  was  nothing  to  mar  the  effect  of 
her  dainty  openwork  waist,  with  its  elbow  sleeves 
and  graceful  collar  and  the  filmy  veil  of  lace  over 
the  shoulders  and  bosom.  Her  skirt  had  been 
washed  clean  by  the  rain,  and  she  had  managed 
to  stretch  it  into  shape  before  drying. 

Refreshed  by  a  nap  in  the  forenoon  and  by  her 
salt-water  dip,  she  showed  more  vivacity  than  at 
any  time  that  Winthrope  could  remember  during 
their  acquaintance.  Her  suffering  during  and 

[92] 


THE     CLUB    AGE 

since  the  storm  had  left  its  mark  in  the  dark 
circles  beneath  her  hazel  eyes,  but  this  in  no  wise 
lessened  their  brightness;  while  the  elasticity  of 
her  step  showed  that  she  had  quite  recovered  her 
well-bred  ease  and  grace  of  movement. 

She  bowed  and  smiled  to  the  two  men  impar 
tially.  "  Good-afternoon,  gentlemen." 

"  Same  to  you,  Miss  Leslie  !  "  responded  Blake, 
staring  at  her  with  frank  admiration.  "  You  look 
fresh  as  a  daisy." 

Genial  and  sincere  as  was  his  tone,  the  famili 
arity  jarred  on  her  sensitive  ear.  She  colored  as 
she  turned  from  him. 

"  Is  there  anything  new,  Mr.  Winthrope  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  I  'in  afraid  not,  Miss  Genevieve.  Like  our 
selves,  Blake  took  a  nap." 

"  Yes ;  but  Blake  first  took  a  squint  at  the 
scenery.  Just  see  if  you  've  got  everything,  and 
fix  your  hats.  We  '11  be  in  the  sun  for  half  a  mile 
or  so.  Better  get  on  the  coat,  Miss  Leslie.  It 's 
hotter  than  yesterday." 

"  Permit  me,"  said  Winthrope. 

Blake  watched  while  the  Englishman  held  the 
coat  for  the  girl  and  rather  fussily  raised  the 
collar  about  her  neck  and  turned  back  the  sleeves, 
which  extended  beyond  the  tips  of  her  fingers. 
The  American's  face  was  stolid;  but  his  glance 

[93] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

took  in  every  little  look  and  act  of  his  compan 
ions.  He  was  not  altogether  unversed  in  the 
ways  of  good  society,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  Englishman  was  somewhat  over-assiduous  in 
his  attentions. 

"All  ready,  Blake,"  remarked  Winthrope, 
finally,  with  a  last  lingering  touch. 

"  'Bout  time  !  "  grunted  Blake.  "  You  're  fussy 
as  a  tailor.  Got  the  flask  and  cigarette  case  and 
the  knife  !  " 

"All  safe,  sir  —  er  —  all  safe,  Blake." 

"Then  you  two  follow  me  slow  enough  not  to 
worry  that  ankle.  I  don't  want  any  more  of  the 
pack-mule  in  mine." 

"Where  are  we  going,  Mr.  Blake  1"  exclaimed 
Miss  Leslie.  "  You  will  not  leave  us  again  !  " 

"It's  only  a  half-mile,  Miss  Jenny.  There's  a 
break  in  the  ridge.  I  'm  going  on  ahead  to  find 
if  it 's  hard  to  climb." 

"  But  why  should  we  climb  ?  " 

"  Food,  for  one  thing.  You  see,  this  end  of 
the  cliff  is  covered  with  sea-birds.  Another  thing, 
I  expect  to  strike  a  spring." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  do !  The  water  in  the  rain 
pools  is  already  warm." 

"  They  '11  be  dry  in  a  day  or  two.  Say,  Win 
thrope,  you  might  fetch  some  of  those  stones  — 
size  of  a  ball.  I  used  to  be  a  fancy  pitcher  when 

[94] 


THE     CLUB     AGE 

I  was  a  kid,  and  we  might  scare  up  a  rabbit  or 

something. " 

"I  play  cricket  myself.     But  these  stones  —  " 

" Better 'n  a  gun,  when  you  haven't  got  the 
gun.  Come  on.  We  '11  go  in  a  bunch,  after  all, 
in  case  I  need  stones." 

With  due  consideration  for  Winthrope's  ankle, 
—  not  for  Winthrope,  —  Blake  set  so  slow  a  pace 
that  the  half-mile's  walk  consumed  over  half  an 
hour.  But  his  smouldering  irritation  was  soon 
quenched  when  they  drew  near  the  green  thicket 
at  the  foot  of  the  cleft.  In  the  almost  deathlike 
stillness  of  mid-afternoon,  the  sound  of  trickling 
water  came  to  their  ears,  clear  and  musical. 

"A  spring!"  shouted  Blake.  "I  guessed  right. 
Look  at  those  green  plants  and  grass ;  there 's 
the  channel  where  it  runs  out  in  the  sand  and 
dries  up." 

The  others  followed  him  eagerly  as  he  pushed 
in  among  the  trees.  They  saw  no  running  water, 
for  the  tiny  rill  that  trickled  down  the  ledges  was 
matted  over  with  vines.  But  at  the  foot  of  the 
slope  lay  a  pool,  some  ten  yards  across,  and  over 
shadowed  by  the  surrounding  trees.  There  was 
no  underbrush,  and  the  ground  was  trampled  bare 
as  a  floor. 

"  By  Jove,"  said  Winthrope ;  "  see  the  tracks ! 
There  must  have  been  a  drove  of  sheep  about." 

[95] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"Deer,  you  mean,"  replied  Blake,  bending  to 
examine  the  deeper  prints  at  the  edge  of  the  pool. 
"These  ain't  sheep  tracks.  A  lot  of  them  are 
larger." 

"Could  you  not  uncover  the  brook?"  asked 
Miss  Leslie.  "If  animals  have  been  drinking 
here,  one  would  prefer  cleaner  water." 

"  Sure,"  assented  Blake.  "  If  you  're  game  for 
a  climb,  and  can  wait  a  few  minutes,  we  '11  get  it 
out  of  the  spring  itself.  We  've  got  to  go  up 
anyway,  to  get  at  our  poultry  yard." 

"  Here 's  a  place  that  looks  like  a  path,"  called 
Winthrope,  who  had  circled  about  the  edge  of  the 
pool  to  the  farther  side. 

Blake  ran  around  beside  him,  and  stared  at  the 
tunnel-like  passage  which  wound  up  the  limestone 
ledges  beneath  the  over-arching  thickets. 

"  Odd  place,  is  it  not  1 "  observed  Winthrope. 
"  Looks  like  a  fox  run,  only  larger,  you  know." 

"Too  low  for  deer,  though  —  and  their  hoofs 
would  have  cut  up  the  moss  and  ferns  more. 
Let 's  get  a  close  look." 

As  he  spoke,  Blake  stooped  and  climbed  a  few 
yards  up  the  trail  to  an  overhanging  ledge,  four 
or  five  feet  high.  Where  the  trail  ran  up  over 
this  break  in  the  slope  the  stone  was  bare  of  all 
vegetation.  Blake  laid  his  club  on  the  top  of  the 
ledge,  and  was  about  to  vault  after  it,  when, 

[96] 


THE     CLUB     AGE 

directly  beneath  his  nose,  he  saw  the  print  of  a 
great  catlike  paw,  outlined  in  dried  mud.  At  the 
same  instant  a  deep  growl  came  rumbling  down 
the  "  fox  run."  Without  waiting  for  a  second 
warning,  Blake  drew  his  club  to  him,  and  crept 
back  down  the  trail.  His  stealthy  movements 
and  furtive  backward  glances  filled  his  compan 
ions  with  vague  terror.  He  himself  was  hardly 
less  alarmed. 

"  Get  out  of  the  trees  —  into  the  open !  "  he  ex 
claimed  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  and  as  they  crept 
away,  white  with  dread  of  the  unknown  danger, 
he  followed  at  their  heels,  looking  backward,  his 
club  raised  in  readiness  to  strike. 

Once  clear  of  the  trees,  Winthrope  caught  Miss 
Leslie  by  the  hand,  and  broke  into  a  run.  In 
their  terror,  they  paid  no  heed  to  Blake's  com 
mand  to  stop.  They  had  darted  off  so  unexpect 
edly  that  he  did  not  overtake  them  short  of  a 
hundred  yards. 

"  Hold  on ! "  he  said,  gripping  Winthrope 
roughly  by  the  shoulder.  "  It 's  safe  enough 
here,  and  you  '11  knock  out  that  blamed  ankle." 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  did  you  see  f  "  gasped 
Miss  Leslie. 

"  Footprint,"  mumbled  Blake,  ashamed  of  his 
fright. 

"  A  lion's  I  "  cried  Winthrope. 

7  [97] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Not  so  large  —  'bout  the  size  of  a  puma's. 
Must  be  a  leopard's  den  up  there.  I  heard  a 
growl,  and  thought  it  about  time  to  clear  out." 

"  By  Jove,  we  *d  better  withdraw  around  the 
point ! " 

"  Withdraw  your  aunty  !  There 's  no  leopard 
going  to  tackle  us  out  here  in  open  ground  this 
time  of  day.  The  sneaking  tomcat !  If  only  I 
had  a  match,  I'd  show  him  how  we  smoke  rat 
holes." 

"  Mr.  Winthrope  spoke  of  rubbing  sticks  to 
make  fire,"  suggested  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Make  sweat,  you  mean.  But  we  may  as 
well  try  it  now,  if  we're  going  to  at  all.  The 
sun 's  hot  enough  to  fry  eggs.  We  '11  go  back  to 
a  shady  place,  and  pick  up  sticks  on  the  way." 

Though  there  was  shade  under  the  cliff  within 
some  six  hundred  feet,  they  had  to  go  some  dis 
tance  to  the  nearest  dry  wood  —  a  dead  thorn- 
bush.  Here  they  gathered  a  quantity  of  branches, 
even  Miss  Leslie  volunteering  to  carry  a  load. 

All  was  thrown  down  in  a  heap  near  the  cliff, 
and  Blake  squatted  beside  it,  penknife  in  hand. 
Having  selected  the  dryest  of  the  larger  sticks, 
he  bored  a  hole  in  one  side  and  dropped  in  a 
pinch  of  powdered  bark.  Laying  the  stick  in  the 
full  glare  of  the  sun,  he  thrust  a  twig  into  the 
hole,  and  began  to  twirl  it  between  his  palms. 

[98] 


THE    CLUB    AGE 

This  movement  he  kept  up  for  several  minutes ; 
but  whether  he  was  unable  to  twirl  the  twig  fast 
enough,  or  whether  the  right  kind  of  wood  or  tin 
der  was  lacking,  all  his  efforts  failed  to  produce  a 
spark. 

Unwilling  to  accept  the  failure,  Winthrope  in 
sisted  upon  trying  in  turn,  and  pride  held  him  to 
the  task  until  he  was  drenched  with  sweat.  The 
result  was  the  same. 

"Told  you  so,"  jeered  Blake  from  where  he 
lay  in  the  shade.  "We'd  stand  more  chance 
cracking  stones  together." 

"  But  what  shall  we  do  now  ? "  asked  Miss 
Leslie.  "  I  am  becoming  very  tired  of  cocoanuts, 
and  there  seems  to  be  nothing  else  around  here. 
Indeed,  I  think  this  is  all  such  a  waste  of  time. 
If  we  had  walked  straight  along  the  shore  this 
morning  we  might  have  reached  a  town."" 

"We  might,  Miss  Jenny,  and  then,  again,  we 
might  n't.  I  happened  to  overhaul  the  captain's 
chart  —  Quilimane,  Mozambique  —  that 's  all  for 
hundreds  of  miles.  Towns  on  this  coast  are 
about  as  thick  as  hens'-teeth." 

"  How  about  native  villages  ?  "  demanded 
Winthrope. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  maybe  I  'm  fool  enough  to  go 
into  a  wild  nigger  town  without  a  gun.  Maybe 
I  did  n't  talk  with  fellows  down  on  the  Rand." 

[99] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  But  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Les 
lie,  with  a  little  frightened  catch  in  her  voice. 
She  was  at  last  beginning-  to  realize  what  this 
rude  break  in  her  sheltered,  pampered  life  might 
mean.  "  What  shall  we  do  ?  It 's  —  it 's  absurd 
to  think  of  having  to  stay  in  this  horrid  country 
for  weeks  or  perhaps  months  —  unless  some  ship 
comes  for  us  !  " 

"  Look  here,  Miss  Leslie,"  answered  Blake, 
sharply  yet  not  unkindly ;  "  suppose  you  just  sit 
back  and  use  your  thinker  a  bit.  If  you  're  your 
daddy's  daughter,  you've  got  brains  somewhere 
down  under  the  boarding-school  stuff." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Now,  don't  get  huffy,  please  !  It 's  a  ques 
tion  of  think,  not  of  putting  on  airs.  Here  we 
are,  worse  off  than  the  people  of  the  Stone  Age. 
They  had  fire  and  flint  axes ;  we  Ve  got  nothing 
but  our  think  tanks,  and  as  to  lions  and  leopards 
and  that  sort  of  thing,  it  strikes  me  we've  got 
about  as  many  on  hand  as  they  had." 

"Then  you  and  Mr.  Winthrope  should  imme 
diately  arm  yourselves.'* 

"  How  ?  —  But  we  '11  leave  that  till  later.  What 
else!" 

The  girl  gazed  at  the  surrounding  objects,  her 
forehead  wrinkled  in  the  effort  at  concentration. 
"  We  must  have  water.  Think  how  we  suffered 

[100] 


THE     CLUB    AGE 

yesterday !  Then  there  is  shelter  from  wild 
beasts,  and  food,  and  —  " 

"  All  right  here  under  our  hands,  if  we  had 
fire.  Understand?" 

"  I  understand  about  the  water.  You  would 
frighten  the  leopard  away  with  the  fire;  and  if  it 
would  do  that,  it  would  also  keep  away  the  other 
animals  at  night.  But  as  for  food,  unless  we  re 
turn  for  cocoanuts  —  " 

"  Don't  give  it  up !  Keep  your  thinker  going  on 
the  side,  while  Pat  tells  us  our  next  move.  Now 
that  he 's  got  the  fire  sticks  out  of  his  head  —  " 

"  I  say,  Blake,  I  wish  you  would  drop  that 
name.  It  is  no  harder  to  say  Winthrope." 

"You're  off,  there,"  rejoined  Blake.  "But 
look  here,  I  '11  make  it  Win,  if  you  figure  out 
what  we  ought  to  do  next." 

"  Really,  Blake,  that  would  not  be  half  bad. 
They  —  er  —  they  called  me  Win  at  Harrow." 

"  That  so  ?  My  English  chum  went  to  Har 
row  —  Jimmy  Scarbridge." 

"  Lord  James  !  —  your  chum  f  " 

"He  started  in  like  you,  sort  of  top-lofty. 
But  he  chummed  all  right  —  after  I  took  out  a 
lot  of  his  British  starch  with  a  good  walloping." 

"  Oh,  really  now,  Blake,  you  can't  expect  any 
one  with  brains  to  believe  that,  you  know !  " 

"No;  I  don't  know,  you  know,  —  and  I  don't 
[101] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

know  if  you've  got  any  brains,  you  know. 
Here's  your  chance  to  show  us.  What's  our 
next  move  ?  " 

"  Really,  now,  I  have  had  no  experience  in 
this  sort  of  thing  —  don't  interrupt,  please  !  It 
seems  to  me  that  our  first  concern  is  shelter  for 
the  night.  If  we  should  return  to  your  tree  nest, 
we  should  also  be  near  the  cocoa  palms." 

"  That 's  one  side.  Here 's  the  other.  Bar 
to  wade  across  —  sharks  and  alligators;  then 
swampy  ground  —  malaria,  mosquitoes,  thorn 
jungle.  Guess  the  hands  of  both  of  you  are  still 
sore  enough,  by  their  look." 

"  If  only  I  had  a  pot  of  cold  cream  !  "  sighed 
Miss  Leslie. 

"  If  only  I  had  a  hunk  of  jerked  beef!"  echoed 
Blake. 

"I  say,  why  couldn't  we  chance  it  for  the 
night  around  on  the  seaward  face  of  the  cliff  1 " 
asked  Winthrope.  "I  noticed  a  place  where  the 
ledges  overhang  —  almost  a  cave.  Do  you  think 
it  probable  that  any  wild  beast  would  venture 
so  close  to  the  sea?" 

"Can't  say.  Didn't  see  any  tracks;  so  we'll 
chance  it  for  to-night.  Next  I  " 

"  By  morning  I  believe  my  ankle  will  be  in 
such  shape  that  I  could  go  back  for  the  string  of 
cocoanuts  which  we  dropped  on  the  beach." 

[102] 


THE     CLUB     AGE 

"I'll  go  myself,  to-day,  else  we'll  have  no 
supper.  Now  we're  getting  down  to  bedrock. 
If  those  nuts  have  n't  been  washed  away  by  the 
tide,  we  're  fixed  for  to-night ;  and  for  two  meals, 
such  as  they  are.  But  what  next  I  Even  the  rain 
pools  will  be  dried  up  by  another  day  or  so." 

"  Are  not  sea-birds  good  to  eat  I "  inquired 
Miss  Leslie. 

"Some." 

"Then,  if  only  we  could  climb  the  cliff  — 
might  there  not  be  another  place  1 " 

"No;  I've  looked  at  both  sides.  What's 
more,  that  spotted  tomcat  has  got  a  monopoly  on 
our  water  supply.  The  river  may  be  fresh  at 
low  tide ;  but  we  've  got  nothing  to  boil  water 
in,  and  such  bayou  stuff  is  just  concentrated 
malaria." 

"  Then  we  must  find  water  elsewhere,"  re 
sponded  Miss  Leslie.  "  Might  we  not  succeed  if 
we  went  on  to  the  other  ridge  I " 

"  That's  the  ticket !  You  've  got  a  headpiece, 
Miss  Jenny  !  It 's  too  late  to  start  now.  But 
first  thing  to-morrow  I  '11  take  a  run  down  that 
way,  while  you  two  lay  around  camp  and  see  if 
you  can  twist  some  sort  of  fish-line  out  of  cocoa- 
nut  fibre.  By  braiding  your  hair,  Miss  Jenny, 
you  can  spare  us  your  hair-pins  for  hooks." 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,  I  'm  afraid  —  I  'd  rather 
[103] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

you'd  take  us  with  you.  With  that  dreadful 
creature  so  near  —  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.     Let 's  see  your  feet  I " 

Miss  Leslie  glanced  at  him,  and  thrust  a 
slender  foot  from  beneath  her  skirt. 

"  Um-m  —  stocking  torn ;  but  those  slippers  are 
tougher  than  I  thought.  Most  of  the  way  will 
be  good  walking,  along  the  beach.  We'll  leave 
the  fishing  to  Pat  —  er  —  beg  pardon  —  Win  ! 
With  his  ankle  — " 

"  By  Jove,  Blake,  I  '11  chance  the  ankle.  Don't 
leave  me  behind.  I  give  you  my  word,  you  '11 
not  have  to  lug  me." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  Mr.  Winthrope  must  go  with  us ! " 

"'Fraid  to  go  alone,  eh?"  demanded  Blake, 
frowning. 

His  tone  startled  and  offended  her ;  yet  all  he 
saw  was  a  politely  quizzical  lifting  of  her  brows. 

"Why  should  I  be  afraid,  Mr.  Blake?"  she 
asked. 

Blake  stared  at  her  moodily.  But  when  she 
met  his  gaze  with  a  confiding  smile,  he  flushed 
and  looked  away. 

"All  right,"  he  muttered;  "we'll  move  camp 
together.  But  don't  expect  me  to  pack  his  lud- 
ship,  if  we  draw  a  blank  and  have  to  trek  back 
without  food  or  water." 

[104] 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE  LEOPARDS'   DEN 

WHILE  Blake  made  a  successful  trip 
for  the  abandoned  cocoanuts,  his 
companions  levelled  the  stones  be 
neath  the  ledges  chosen  by  Winthrope,  and 
gathered  enough  dried  sea-weed  along  the  talus 
to  soften  the  hard  beds. 

Soothed  by  the  monotonous  wash  of  the  sea 
among  the  rocks,  even  Miss  Leslie  slept  well. 
Blake,  who  had  insisted  that  she  should  retain 
his  coat,  was  wakened  by  the  chilliness  preceding 
the  dawn.  Five  minutes  later  they  started  on 
their  journey. 

The  starlight  glimmered  on  the  waves  and 
shed  a  faint  radiance  over  the  rocks.  This  and 
their  knowledge  of  the  way  enabled  them  to  pick 
a  path  along  the  foot  of  the  cliff  without  diffi 
culty.  Once  on  the  beach,  they  swung  along  at 
a  smart  gait,  invigorated  by  the  cool  air. 

Dawn  found  them  half  way  to  their  goal. 
Blake  called  a  halt  when  the  first  red  streaks 
shot  up  the  eastern  sky.  All  stood  waiting  until 

[105] 


the  quickly  following  sun  sprang  forth  from  the 
sea.  Blake's  first  act  was  to  glance  from  one 
headland  to  the  other,  estimating  their  relative 
distances.  His  grunt  of  satisfaction  was  lost  in 
Winthrope's  exclamation,  "  By  Jove,  look  at  the 
cattle ! " 

Blake  and  Miss  Leslie  turned  to  stare  at  the 
droves  of  animals  moving  about  between  them 
and  the  border  of  the  tall  grass.  Miss  Leslie  was 
the  first  to  speak.  "They  can't  be  cattle,  Mr. 
Winthrope.  There  are  some  with  stripes.  I  do 
believe  they  're  zebras  !  " 

"Get  down!"  commanded  Blake.  "  They  're 
all  wild  game.  Those  big  ox-like  fellows  to  the 
left  of  the  zebras  are  eland.  Whee !  would  n't 
we  be  in  it  if  we  owned  that  water  hole  I  I  '11  bet 
I  'd  have  one  of  those  fat  beeves  inside  three 
days." 

"  How  I  should  enjoy  a  juicy  steak ! "  mur 
mured  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Raw  or  jerked  ?  "  questioned  Blake. 

"What  is  'jerked'!" 

"  Dried." 

"Oh,  no;  I  mean  broiled — just  red  inside." 

"I  prefer  mine  quite  rare,"  added  Winthrope. 

"  That 's  the  way  you  '11  get  it,  damned  rare  — 
Beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Jenny  !  Without  fire, 
we  '11  have  the  choice  of  raw  or  jerked." 

[106] 


THE     LEOPARDS'     DEN 

"  Horrors ! " 

"  Jerked  meat  is  all  right.  You  cut  your  game 
in  strips  —  " 

"  With  a  penknife !  "  laughed  Miss  Leslie. 

Blake  stared  at  her  glumly.  "That's  so. 
You  've  got  it  back  on  me  —  Butcher  a  beef 
with  a  penknife !  We  '11  have  to  take  it  raw, 
and  dog-fashion  at  that." 

"Haven't  I  heard  of  bamboo  knives?"  said 
Winthrope. 

"  Bamboo  I " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  say,  but  as  I  remember,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  varnish-like  glaze  —  " 

"Silica!  Say,  that  would  cut  meat.  But 
where  in  —  where  in  hades  are  the  bamboos  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  say.  Only  I  remember  that 
I  have  seen  them  in  other  tropical  places,  you 
know." 

"  Meantime  I  prefer  cocoanuts,  until  we 
have  a  fire  to  broil  our  steaks,"  remarked  Miss 
Leslie. 

"Ditto,  Miss  Jenny,  long's  we  have  the  nuts 
and  no  meat.  I'm  a  vegetarian  now  —  but 
maybe  my  mouth  ain't  watering  for  something 
else.  Look  at  all  those  chops  and  roasts  and 
stews  running  around  out  there  ! " 

"  They  are  making  for  the  grass,"  observed 
Winthrope.  "  Had  n't  we  better  start?  " 

[107] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Nuts  won't  weigh  so  much  without  the  shells. 
We  '11  eat  right  here." 

There  were  only  a  few  nuts  left.  They  were 
drained  and  cracked  and  scooped  out,  one  after 
another.  The  last  chanced  to  break  evenly 
across  the  middle. 

"  Hello,"  said  Blake,  "  the  lower  part  of 
this  will  do  for  a  bowl,  Miss  Jenny.  When 
you  Ve  eaten  the  cream,  put  it  in  your  pocket. 
Say,  Win,  have  you  got  the  bottle  and  keys 
and  —  " 

"All  safe  —  everything." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Mr.  Winthrope  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Leslie.  "  Men's  pockets  seem  so  open.  Twice 
I've  had  to  pick  up  Mr.  Blake's  locket." 

"  Locket  I "  echoed  Blake. 

"The  ivory  locket.  Women  may  be  curious, 
Mr.  Blake,  but  I  assure  you,  I  did  not  look 
inside,  though  —  " 

"  Let  me  —  give  it  here  —  quick  !  "  gasped 
Blake. 

Startled  by  his  tone  and  look,  Miss  Leslie 
caught  an  oval  object  from  the  side  pocket  of  the 
coat,  and  thrust  it  into  Blake's  outstretched  hand. 
For  a  moment  he  stared  at  it,  unable  to  believe 
his  eyes ;  then  he  leaped  up,  with  a  yell  that 
sent  the  droves  of  zebras  and  antelope  flying  into 
the  tall  grass. 

[108] 


THE    LEOPARDS'     DEN 

u  Oh  !  oh  !  "  screamed  Miss  Leslie.  "  Is  it  a 
snake  I  Are  you  bitten  I  " 

"Bitten? — Yes,  by  John  Barleycorn!  Must 
have  been  fuzzy  drunk  to  put  it  in  my  coat. 
Always  carry  it  in  my  fob  pocket.  What  a 
blasted  infernal  idiot  I  've  been !  Kick  me,  Win, 
—  kick  me  hard  !  " 

"  I  say,  Blake,  what  is  it  ?  I  don't  quite  take 
you.  If  you  would  only  —  " 

"  Fire  !  — fire  I  Can't  you  see  I  We  've  got 
all  hell  beat !  Look  here." 

He  snapped  open  the  slide  of  the  supposed 
locket,  and  before  either  of  his  companions  could 
realize  what  he  would  be  about,  was  focussing  the 
lens  of  a  surveyor's  magnifying-glass  upon  the 
back  of  Winthrope's  hand.  The  Englishman 
jerked  the  hand  away  — 

"  Ow  !     That  burns  !  " 

Blake  shook  the  glass  in  their  bewildered  faces. 

"Look  there!"  he  shouted,  " there's  fire; 
there  's  water ;  there  's  birds'  eggs  and  beefsteaks ! 
Here 's  where  we  trek  on  the  back  trail.  We  '11 
smoke  out  that  leopard  in  short  order  !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Blake  —  " 

"  No  ;  I  mean  to  do  !  Don't  worry.  You  can 
hide  with  Miss  Jenny  on  the  point,  while  I 
engineer  the  deal.  Fall  in." 

The  day  was  still  fresh  when  they  found 
[1091 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

themselves  back  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  Here 
arose  a  heated  debate  between  the  men.  Win 
thrope,  stung  by  Blake's  jeering  words,  insisted 
upon  sharing  the  attack,  though  with  no  great 
enthusiasm.  Much  to  Blake's  surprise,  Miss 
Leslie  came  to  the  support  of  the  Englishman. 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,"  she  argued,  "  you  say  it 
will  be  perfectly  safe  for  us  here.  If  so,  it  will 
be  safe  for  myself  alone." 

"  I  can  play  this  game  without  him." 

"  No  doubt.  Yet  if,  as  you  say,  you  expect  to 
keep  off  the  leopard  with  a  torch,  would  it  not  be 
well  to  have  Mr.  Winthrope  at  hand  with  other 
torches,  should  yours  burn  out  f  " 

"  Yes ;  if  I  thought  he  'd  be  at  hand  after  the 
first  scare." 

Winthrope  started  off,  almost  on  a  run.  At 
that  moment  he  might  have  faced  the  leopard 
single-handed.  Blake  chuckled  as  he  swung 
away  after  his  victim.  Within  ten  paces,  how 
ever,  he  paused  to  call  back  over  his  shoulder : 
"  Get  around  the  point,  Miss  Jenny,  and  if  you 
want  something  to  do,  try  braiding  the  cocoanut 
fibre." 

Miss  Leslie  made  no  response ;  but  she  stood  for 
some  time  gazing  after  the  two  men.  There  was 
so  much  that  was  characteristic  even  in  this  rear 
view.  For  all  his  anger  and  his  haste,  the 

[110] 


THE     LEOPARDS'     DEN 

Englishman  bore  himself  with  an  air  of  well-bred 
nicety.  His  trim,  erect  figure  needed  only  a  fresh 
suit  to  be  irreproachable.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
careless  observer,  at  first  glance,  might  have  mis 
taken  Blake,  with  his  flannel  shirt  and  shouldered 
club,  for  a  hulking  navvy.  But  there  was  nothing 
of  the  navvy  in  his  swinging  stride  or  in  the  reso 
lute  poise  of  his  head  as  he  came  up  with 
Winthrope. 

Though  the  girl  was  not  given  to  reflection,  the 
contrast  between  the  two  could  not  but  impress 
her.  How  well  her  countryman  —  coarse,  un 
cultured,  but  full  of  brute  strength  and  courage 
—  fitted  in  with  these  primitive  surroundings. 
Whereas  Winthrope  ....  and  herself  .... 

She  fell  into  a  kind  of  disquieted  brown  study. 
Her  eyes  had  an  odd  look,  both  startled  and 
meditative,  —  such  a  look  as  might  be  expected 
of  one  who  for  the  first  time  is  peering  beneath 
the  surface  of  things,  and  sees  the  naked  Realities 
of  Life,  the  real  values,  bared  of  masking  conven 
tions.  It  may  have  been  that  she  was  seeking  to 
ponder  the  meaning  of  her  own  existence  —  that 
she  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  vanity  and  waste 
fulness,  the  utter  futility  of  her  life.  At  the 
best,  it  could  only  have  been  a  glimpse.  But 
was  not  that  enough  ? 

"  Of  what  use  are  such  people  as  1 1 "  she  cried. 
[Ill] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

'"'  That  man  may  be  rough  and  coarse,  —  even  a 
brute  ;  but  he  at  least  does  things  —  I  '11  show 
him  that  I  can  do  things,  too !  " 

She  hastened  out  around  the  corner  of  the  cliff 
to  the  spot  where  they  had  spent  the  night.  Here 
she  gathered  together  the  cocoanut  husks,  and 
seating  herself  in  the  shade  of  the  overhanging 
ledges,  began  to  pick  at  the  coarse  fibre.  It  was 
cruel  work  for  her  soft  fingers,  not  yet  fully 
healed  from  the  thorn  wounds.  At  times  the 
pain  and  an  overpowering  sense  of  injury  brought 
tears  to  her  eyes ;  still  more  often  she  dropped  the 
work  in  despair  of  her  awkwardness.  Yet  always 
she  returned  to  the  task  with  renewed  energy. 

After  no  little  perseverance,  she  found  how  to 
twist  the  fibre  and  plait  it  into  cord.  At  best  it 
was  slow  work,  and  she  did  not  see  how  she 
should  ever  make  enough  cord  for  a  fish-line. 
Yet,  as  she  caught  the  knack  of  the  work  and  her 
fingers  became  more  nimble,  she  began  to  enjoy 
the  novel  pleasure  of  producing  something. 

She  had  quite  forgot  to  feel  injured,  and  was 
learning  to  endure  with  patience  the  rasping  of 
the  fibre  between  her  fingers,  when  Winthrope 
came  clambering  around  the  corner  of  the  cliff. 

"  What  is  it  I  "  she  exclaimed,  springing  up  and 
hurrying  to  meet  him.  He  was  white  and  quiver 
ing,  and  the  look  in  his  eyes  filled  her  with  dread. 

[112] 


THE     LEOPARDS'     DEN 

Her  voice  shrilled  to  a  scream,  "  He 's  dead ! " 

Winthrope  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  he 's  hurt !  —  he  's  hurt  by  that  savage 
creature,  and  you  've  run  off  and  left  him  —  " 

"  No,  no,  Miss  Genevieve,  I  must  insist !  The 
fellow  is  not  even  scratched." 

"Then  why  —  !" 

"  It  was  the  horror  of  it  all.  It  actually  made 
me  ill." 

"  You  frightened  me  almost  to  death.  Did  the 
beast  chase  you  ?  " 

"That  would  have  been  better,  in  a  way. 
Really,  it  was  horrible !  I  Jm  still  sick  over  it, 
Miss  Genevieve." 

"  But  tell  me  about  it.  Did  you  set  fire  to  the 
bushes  in  the  cleft,  as  Mr.  Blake  —  " 

"Yes;  after  we  had  fetched  what  we  could 
carry  of  that  long  grass  —  two  big  trusses.  It 
grows  ten  or  twelve  feet  tall,  and  is  now  quite 
dry.  Part  of  it  Blake  made  into  torches,  and  we 
fired  the  bush  all  across  the  foot  of  the  cleft. 
Really,  one  would  not  have  thought  there  was 
that  much  dry  wood  in  so  green  a  dell.  On 
either  side  of  the  rill  the  grass  and  brush  flared 
like  tinder,  and  the  flames  swept  up  the  cleft  far 
quicker  than  we  had  expected.  We  could  hear 
them  crackling  and  roaring  louder  than  ever  after 
the  smoke  shut  out  our  view." 

8  [  113  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Surely,  there  is  nothing  so  very  horrible  in 
that." 

"  No,  oh,  no ;  it  was  not  that.  But  the  beast 
—  the  leopard  !  At  first  we  heard  one  roar ;  then 
it  was  that  dreadful  snarling  and  yelling  —  most 
awful  squalling !  .  .  .  .  The  wretched  thing  came 
leaping  and  tumbling  down  the  path,  all  singed 
arid  blinded.  Blake  fired  the  big  truss  of  grass, 
and  the  brute  rolled  right  into  the  flames.  It  was 
shocking  —  dreadfully  shocking !  The  wretched 
creature  writhed  and  leaped  about  till  it  plunged 

into  the  pool When  it  sought  to  crawl  out, 

all  black  and  hideous,  Blake  went  up  and  killed 
it  with  his  club  —  crushed  in  its  skull  —  Ugh  !  " 

Miss  Leslie  gazed  at  the  unnerved  Englishman 
with  calm  scrutiny. 

"  But  why  should  you  feel  so  about  it  I "  she 
asked.  "  Was  it  not  the  beast's  life  against 

3  » 

ours  i 

"  But  so  horrible  a  death  !  " 

"  I  'm  sure  Mr.  Blake  would  have  preferred  to 
shoot  the  creature,  had  he  a  gun.  Having  noth 
ing  else  than  fire,  I  think  it  was  all  very  brave 
of  him.  Now  we  are  sure  of  water  and  food. 
Had  we  not  best  be  going  I " 

"  It  was  to  fetch  you  that  Blake  sent  me." 

Winthrope  spoke  with  perceptible  stiffness. 
He  was  chagrined,  not  only  by  her  commendation 

[114] 


THE    LEOPARDS'     DEN 

of  Blake,  but  by  the  indifference  with  which  she 
had  met  his  agitation. 

They  started  at  once,  Miss  Leslie  in  the  lead. 
As  they  rounded  the  point,  she  caught  sight  of 
the  smoke  still  rising  from  the  cleft.  A  little 
later  she  noticed  the  vultures  which  were  stream 
ing  down  out  of  the  sky  from  all  quarters  other 
than  seaward.  Their  focal  point  seemed  to  be 
the  trees  at  the  foot  of  the  cleft.  A  nearer  view 
showed  that  they  were  alighting  in  the  thorn 
bushes  on  the  south  border  of  the  wood. 

Of  Blake  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  until 
Miss  Leslie,  still  in  the  lead,  pushed  in  among 
the  trees.  There  they  found  him  crouched 
beside  a  small  fire,  near  the  edge  of  the  pool. 
He  did  not  look  up.  His  eyes  were  riveted  in  a 
hungry  stare  upon  several  pieces  of  flesh,  sus 
pended  over  the  flames  on  spits  of  green  twigs. 

"  Hello! "  he  sang  out,  as  he  heard  their  foot 
steps.  "Just  in  time,  Miss  Jenny.  Your  broiled 
steak  '11  be  ready  in  short  order." 

"  Oh,  build  up  the  fire !  I  'm  simply  raven 
ous  ! "  she  exclaimed,  between  impatience  and 
delight. 

Winthrope  was  hardly  less  keen ;  yet  his 
hunger  did  not  altogether  blunt  his  curiosity. 

"I  say,  Blake,"  he  inquired,  "where  did  you 
get  the  meat  ?  " 

[115] 


INTO    THE    PRIMITIVE 

"  Stow  it,  Win,  my  boy.  This  ain't  a  packing 
House.  The  stuff  may  be  tough,  but  it's  not — er 
—  the  other  thing.  Here  you  are,  Miss  Jenny. 
Chew  it  off  the  stick." 

Though  Winthrope  had  his  suspicions,  he  took 
the  piece  of  half-burned  flesh  which  Blake  handed 
him  in  turn,  and  fell  to  eating  without  further 
question.  As  Blake  had  surmised,  the  roast 
proved  far  other  than  tender.  Hunger,  however, 
lent  it  a  most  appetizing  flavor.  The  repast 
ended  when  there  was  nothing  left  to  devour. 
Blake  threw  away  his  empty  spit,  and  rose  to 
stretch.  He  waited  for  Miss  Leslie  to  swallow 
her  last  mouthful,  and  then  began  to  chuckle. 

"  What 's  the  joke  ?  "  asked  Winthrope. 

Blake  looked  at  him  solemnly. 

"  Well  now,  that  was  downright  mean  of  me," 
he  drawled;  " after  robbing  them,  to  laugh  at 
it!" 

"  Robbing  who  !  " 

"  The  buzzards." 

"  You  've  fed  us  on  leopard  meat !  It 's  —  it 's 
disgusting ! " 

"  I  found  it  filling.  How  about  you,  Miss 
Jenny  ?  " 

Miss  Leslie  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or 
to  give  way  to  a  feeling  of  nausea.  She  did 
neither. 

[116] 


THE    LEOPARDS'     DEN 

"Can  we  not  find  the  spring  of  whicn  you 
spoke  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  am  thirsty." 

"Well,  I  guess  the  fire  is  about  burnt  out," 
assented  Blake.  "  Come  on  ;  we  '11  see." 

The  cleft  now  had  a  far  different  aspect  from 
what  it  had  presented  on  their  first  visit.  The 
largest  of  the  trees,  though  scorched  about  the 
base,  still  stood  with  unwithered  foliage,  little 
harmed  by  the  fire.  But  many  of  their  small 
companions  had  been  killed  and  partly  destroyed 
by  the  heat  and  flames  from  the  burning  brush. 
In  places  the  fire  was  yet  smouldering. 

Blake  picked  a  path  along  the  edge  of  the  rill, 
where  the  moist  vegetation,  though  scorched,  had 
refused  to  burn.  After  the  first  abrupt  ledge,  up 
which  Blake  had  to  drag  his  companions,  the 
ascent  was  easy.  But  as  they  climbed  around 
an  outjutting  corner  of  the  steep  right  wall  of  the 
cleft,  Blake  muttered  a  curse  of  disappointment. 
He  could  now  see  that  the  cleft  did  not  run  to 
the  top  of  the  cliff",  but  through  it,  like  a  tiny  box 
canyon.  The  sides  rose  sheer  and  smooth  as 
walls.  Midway,  at  the  highest  point  of  the  cleft, 
the  baobab  towered  high  above  the  ridge  crest, 
its  gigantic  trunk  filling  a  third  of  the  breadth  of 
the  little  gorge.  Unfortunately  it  stood  close  to 
the  left  wall. 

"Here's    luck    for    you!"    growled    Blake. 
[117] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Why  could  n't  the  blamed  old  tree  have  grown 
on  the  other  side  ?  We  might  have  found  a  way 
to  climb  it.  Guess  we  '11  have  to  smoke  out 
another  leopard.  We  're  no  nearer  those  birds' 
nests  than  we  were  yesterday." 

"  By  Jove,  look  here  !  "  exclaimed  Winthrope. 
"  This  is  our  chance  for  antelope !  Here  by  the 
spring  are  bamboos  —  real  bamboos,  —  and  only 
half  the  thicket  burned." 

"  What  of  them  f  "  demanded  Blake. 

"Bows  —  arrows  —  and  did  you  not  agree  that 
they  would  make  knives  I  " 

"  Umph  —  we  '11  see.  What  is  it,  Miss  Jenny  !  " 

"  Is  n't  that  a  hole  in  the  big  tree  I  " 

"  Looks  like  it.  These  baobabs  are  often 
hollow." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  where  the  leopard  had  his 
den,"  added  Winthrope. 

"  Should  n't  wonder.     We  '11  go  and  see." 

"But,  Mr.  Blake,"  protested  the  girl,  "may 
there  not  be  other  leopards  I " 

"  Might  have  been ;  but  I  '11  bet  they  lit  out 
with  the  other.  Look  how  the  tree  is  scorched. 
Must  have  been  stacks  of  dry  brush  around  the 
hole,  'nough  to  smoke  out  a  fireman.  We'll 
look  and  see  if  they  left  any  soup  bones  lying 
around.  First,  though,  here's  your  drink,  Miss 
Jenny." 

[118] 


THE      LEOPARDS'     DEN 

As  he  spoke,  Blake  kicked  aside  some  smould 
ering  branches,  and  led  the  way  to  the  crevice 
whence  the  spring  trickled  from  the  rock  into  a 
shallow  stone  basin.  When  all  had  drunk  their 
fill  of  the  clear  cool  water,  Blake  took  up  his 
club  and  walked  straight  across  to  the  baobab. 
Less  than  thirty  steps  brought  him  to  the  nar 
row  opening  in  the  trunk  of  the  huge  tree.  At 
first  he  could  make  out  nothing  in  the  dimly 
lit  interior ;  but  the  fetid,  catty  odor  was  enough 
to  convince  him  that  he  had  found  the  leopards' 
den. 

He  caught  the  vague  outlines  of  a  long  body, 
crouched  five  or  six  yards  away,  on  the  far  side 
of  the  hollow.  He  sprang  back,  his  club  bran 
dished  to  strike.  But  the  expected  attack  did  not 
follow.  Blake  glanced  about  as  though  consider 
ing  the  advisability  of  a  retreat.  Winthrope  and 
Miss  Leslie  were  staring  at  him,  white-faced. 
The  sight  of  their  terror  seemed  to  spur  him  to 
dare-devil  bravado ;  though  his  actions  may 
rather  have  been  due  to  the  fact  that  he  realized 
the  futility  of  flight,  and  so  rose  to  the  require 
ments  of  the  situation  —  the  grim  need  to  stand 
and  face  the  danger. 

"Get  behind  the  bamboos  !"  he  called,  and  as 
they  hurriedly  obeyed,  he  caught  up  a  stone  and 
flung  it  in  at  the  crouching  beast. 

[119] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

He  heard  the  missile  strike  with  a  soft  thud 
that  told  him  he  had  not  missed  his  mark,  and  he 
swung  up  his  club  in  both  hands.  Given  half  a 
chance,  he  would  smash  the  skull  of  the  female 

leopard  as  he  had  crushed  her  blinded  mate 

One  moment  after  another  passed,  and  he  stood 

poised  for  the  shock,  tense  and  scowling 

Not  so  much  as  a  snarl  came  from  within.     The 
truth  flashed  upon  him. 

11  Smothered  ! "  he  yelled. 

The  others  saw  him  dart  in  through  the  hole. 
A  moment  later  two  limp  grayish  bodies  were 
flung  out  into  the  open.  Immediately  after, 
Blake  reappeared,  dragging  the  body  of  the 
mother  leopard. 

"It's  all  right;  they're  dead!"  cried  Win- 
thrope,  and  he  ran  forward  to  look  at  the 
bodies. 

Miss  Leslie  followed,  hardly  less  curious. 

"Are  they  all  dead,  Mr.  Blake!"  she  in 
quired. 

"  Wiped  out  —  whole  family.  The  old  cat 
stayed  by  her  kittens,  and  all  smothered  together 
—  lucky  for  us  !  Get  busy  with  those  bamboos, 
Win.  I'm  going  to  have  these  skins,  and  the 
sooner  we  get  the  cub  meat  hung  up  and  curing, 
the  better  for  us." 

"  Leopard  meat  again  !  "  rejoined  Winthrope. 
[120] 


THE    LEOPARDS'     DEN 

"  Spring  leopard,  young  and  tender !  What 
more  could  you  ask  ?  Get  a  move  on  you." 

"Can  I  do  anything,  Mr.  Blake  I"  asked  Miss 
Leslie. 

"  Hunt  a  shady  spot." 

"  But  I  really  mean  it." 

"Well,  if  that's  straight,  you  might  go  on 
along  the  gully,  and  see  if  there's  any  place  to 
get  to  the  top.  You  could  pick  up  sticks  on  the 
way  back,  if  any  are  left.  We  '11  have  to  fumi 
gate  this  tree  hole  before  we  adopt  it  for  a 
residence." 

"  Will  it  be  long  before  you  finish  with  your — 
with  the  bodies  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  look  here,  Miss  Jenny ;  it 's  going 
to  be  a  mess,  and  I  would  n't  mind  hauling  the 
carcasses  clear  down  the  gully,  out  of  sight,  if 
it  was  to  be  the  only  time.  But  it's  not,  and 
you've  got  to  get  used  to  it,  sooner  or  later.  So 
we  '11  start  now." 

"I  suppose,  if  I  must,  Mr.  Blake —  Really, 
I  wish  to  help." 

''Good.  That's  something  like!  Think  you 
can  learn  to  cook  I " 

"  See  what  I  did  this  morning." 

Blake  took  the  cord  of  cocoanut  fibre  which 
she  held  out  to  him,  and  tested  its  strength. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  —  blessed  !  "  he  said.  «  This  is 
[121] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

something  like,  If  you  don't  look  out,  you'll 
make  quite  a  camp-mate,  Miss  Jenny.  But  now, 
trot  along.  This  is  hardly  arctic  weather,  and  our 
abattoir  don't  include  a  cold-storage  plant.  The 
sooner  these  lambs  are  dressed,  the  better." 


[12*] 


CHAPTER  X 

PROBLEMS   IN   WOODCRAFT 

IT  was  no  pleasant  sight  that  met  Miss 
Leslie's  gaze  upon  her  return.  The  neatest 
of  butchering  can  hardly  be  termed  aesthetic; 
and  Blake  and  Winthrope  lacked  both  skill  and 
tools.  Between  the  penknife  and  an  improvised 
blade  of  bamboo,  they  had  flayed  the  two  cubs 
and  haggled  off  the  flesh.  The  ragged  strips, 
spitted  on  bamboo  rods,  were  already  searing  in 
the  fierce  sun-rays. 

Miss  Leslie  would  have  slipped  into  the  hollow 
of  the  baobab  with  her  armful  of  fagots  and 
brush;  but  Blake  waved  a  bloody  knife  above 
the  body  of  the  mother  leopard,  and  beckoned 
the  girl  to  come  nearer. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  please,"  he  said.  "What 
did  you  find  out  ?  " 

Miss  Leslie  drew  a  few  steps  nearer,  and  forced 
herself  to  look  at  the  revolting  sight.  She  found 
it  still  more  difficult  to  withstand  the  odor  of  the 
fresh  blood.  Winthrope  was  pale  and  nauseated. 
The  sight  of  his  distress  caused  the  girl  to  forget 

[  123  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

her  own  loathing.  She  drew  a  deep  breath,  and 
succeeded  in  countering  Blake's  expectant  look 
with  a  half-smile. 

"  How  well  you  are  getting  along ! "  she  ex 
claimed. 

"  Did  n't  think  you  could  stand  it.  But  you  Ve 
got  grit  all  right,  if  you  are  a  lady,"  Blake 
said  admiringly.  "  Say,  you  '11  make  it  yet ! 
Now,  how  about  the  gully  f  " 

"  There  is  no  place  to  climb  up.  It  runs  along 
like  this,  and  then  slopes  down.  But  there  is  a 
cliff  at  the  end,  as  high  as  these  walls." 

"Twenty  feet,"  muttered  Blake.  "Confound 
the  luck!  It  isn't  that  jump-off;  but  how  in  — 
how  are  we  going  to  get  up  on  the  cliff!  There 's 
an  everlasting  lot  of  omelettes  in  those  birds' 

nests.     If  onlv  that  bloomin'  —  how 's  that.  Win, 

j 

me  b'y  ?  —  that  bloomin',  blawsted  baobab  was 
on  t'  other  side.  The  wood 's  almost  soft  as  punk. 
We  could  drive  in  pegs,  and  climb  up  the  trunk." 

"There  are  other  trees  beyond  it,"  remarked 
Miss  Leslie. 

"  Then  maybe  we  can  shin  up  —  " 

"  I  fear  the  branches  that  overhang  the  cliff  are 
too  slender  to  bear  any  weight." 

"And  it's  too  infernally  high  to  climb  up  to 
this  overhanging  baobab  limb." 

"I  say,"  ventured  Winthrope,  "if  we  had  an 
[124] 


PROBLEMS     IN    WOODCRAFT 

axe,  now,  we  might  cut  up  one  of  the  trees,  and 
make  a  ladder." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  and  if  we  had  a  ladder,  we  might 
climb  up  the  cliff ! " 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,  is  there  not  some  way  to  cut 
down  one  of  the  trees  1  The  tree  itself  would  be 
a  ladder  if  it  fell  in  such  a  way  as  to  lean  against 
the  cliff." 

"  There 's  only  the  penknife,"  answered  Blake. 
"So  I  guess  we'll  have  to  scratch  eggs  off  our 
menu  card.  Spring  leopard  for  ours !  Now,  if 
you  really  want  to  help,  you  might  scrape  the 
soup  bones  out  of  your  boudoir,  and  fetch  a  lot 
more  brush.  It  '11  take  a  big  fire  to  rid  the  hole 
of  that  cat  smell." 

"  Will  not  the  tree  burn  ?  " 

"  No ;  these  hollow  baobabs  have  green  bark 
on  the  inside  as  well  as  out.  Funny  thing,  that ! 
We'd  have  to  keep  a  fire  going  a  long  tune  to 
burn  through." 

"  Yet  it  would  burn  in  time  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  we're  not  going  to  — " 

"Then  why  not  burn  through  the  trunk  of 
one  of  those  small  trees,  instead  of  chopping  it 
down  ?  " 

"  By  —  heck,  Miss  Jenny,  you've  got  an 
American  headpiece !  Come  on.  Sooner  we  get 
the  thing  started,  the  better." 

[125] 


INTO     THE    PRIMITIVE 

Neither  Winthrope  nor  Miss  Leslie  was  reluc 
tant  to  leave  the  vicinity  of  the  carcasses.  They 
followed  close  after  Blake,  around  the  monstrous 
bole  of  the  baobab.  A  little  beyond  it  stood  a 
group  of  slender  trees,  whose  trunks  averaged 
eight  inches  thick  at  the  base.  Blake  stopped  at 
the  second  one,  which  grew  nearest  to  the  sea 
ward  side  of  the  cleft. 

"  Here 's  our  ladder,"  he  said.  "  Get  some 
firewood.  Pound  the  bushes,  though,  before  you 
go  poking  into  them.  May  be  snakes  here." 

"  Snakes  ?  —  oh  !  "  cried  Miss  Leslie,  and  she 
stood  shuddering  at  the  danger  she  had  already 
incurred. 

The  fire  had  burnt  itself  out  on  a  bare  ledge  of 
rock  between  them  and  the  baobab,  and  the 
clumps  of  dry  brush  left  standing  in  this  end  of 
the  cleft  were  very  suggestive  of  snakes,  now 
that  Blake  had  called  attention  to  the  possibility 
of  their  presence. 

He  laughed  at  his  hesitating  companions.  "Go 
on,  go  on !  Don't  squeal  till  you  're  bit.  Most 
snakes  hike  out,  if  you  give  them  half  a  chance. 
Take  a  stick,  each  of  you,  and  pound  the  bushes." 

Thus  urged,  both  started  to  work.  But  neither 
ventured  into  the  thicker  clumps.  When  they 
returned,  with  large  armfuls  of  sticks  and  twigs, 
they  found  that  Blake  had  used  his  glass  to  light 

[126] 


PROBLEMS     IN    WOODCRAFT 

a  handful  of  dry  bark,  out  in  the  sun,  and  was 
nursing  it  into  a  small  fire  at  the  base  of  the  tree, 
on  the  side  next  the  cliff. 

"Now,  Miss  Jenny,"  he  directed,  "you're  to 
keep  this  going  —  not  too  big  a  fire  —  under 
stand?  Same  time  you  can  keep  on  fetching 
brush  to  fumigate  your  cat  hole.  It  needs  it,  all 
right." 

"Will  not  that  be  rather  too  much  for  Miss 
Leslie  1 "  asked  Winthrope. 

"  Well,  if  she  'd  rather  come  and  rub  brains  on 
the  skins,  —  Indian  tan,  you  know,  —  or  —  " 

"  How  can  you  mention  such  things  before  a 
lady  I  "  protested  Winthrope. 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Leslie  !  you  see,  I  'm 
not  much  used  to  ladies'  company.  Anyway, 
you've  got  to  see  and  hear  about  these  things. 
And  now  I  '11  have  to  get  the  strings  for  Win's 
bamboo  bows.  Come  on,  Win.  We  've  got  that 
old  tabby  to  peel,  and  a  lot  more  besides." 

Miss  Leslie's  first  impulse  was  to  protest  against 
being  left  alone,  when  at  any  moment  some 
awful  venomous  serpent  might  come  darting  at 
her  out  of  the  brush  or  the  crevices  in  the  rocks. 
But  her  half-parted  lips  drew  firmly  together,  and 
after  a  moment's  hesitancy,  she  forced  herself  to 
the  task  which  had  been  assigned  her.  The  fire, 
once  started,  required  little  attention.  She  could 

[127] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

give  most  of  her  time  to  gathering  brush  for  the 
fumigation  of  the  leopard  den. 

She  had  collected  quite  a  heap  of  fuel  at  the 
entrance  of  the  hollow,  when  she  remembered  that 
the  place  would  first  have  to  be  cleared  of  its  ac 
cumulation  of  bones.  A  glance  at  her  companions 
showed  that  they  were  in  the  midst  of  tasks  even 
more  revolting.  It  was  certainly  disagreeable  to 
do  such  things ;  yet,  as  Mr.  Blake  had  said,  others 
had  to  do  them.  It  was  now  her  time  to  learn. 
She  could  see  him  smile  at  her  hesitation. 

Stung  by  the  thought  of  his  half  contemptuous 
pity,  she  caught  up  a  forked  stick,  and  forced 
herself  to  enter  the  tree-cave.  The  stench  met 
her  like  a  blow.  It  nauseated  and  all  but  over 
powered  her.  She  stood  for  several  moments  in 
the  centre  of  the  cavity,  sick  and  faint.  Had  it 
been  even  the  previous  day,  she  would  have  run 
out  into  the  open  air. 

Presently  she  grew  a  little  more  accustomed  to 
the  stench,  and  began  to  rake  over  the  soft  dry 
mould  of  the  den  floor  with  her  forked  stick. 
Bones !  —  who  had  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  mess 
of  bones  ?  —  big  bones  and  little  bones  and  skulls ; 
old  bones,  dry  and  almost  buried  ;  mouldy  bones ; 
bones  still  half-covered  with  bits  of  flesh  and 
gristle  —  the  remnants  of  the  leopard  family's  last 
meal. 

[128] 


PROBLEMS     IN     WOODCRAFT 

At  last  all  were  scraped  out  and  flung  in  a  heap, 
three  or  four  yards  away  from  the  entrance.  Miss 
Leslie  looked  at  the  result  of  her  labor  with  a 
satisfied  glance,  followed  by  a  sigh  of  relief.  Be 
tween  the  heat  and  her  unwonted  exercise,  she 
was  greatly  fatigued.  She  stepped  around  to  a 
shadier  spot  to  rest. 

With  a  start,  she  remembered  the  fire. 

When  she  reached  it  there  were  only  a  few 
dying  embers  left.  She  gathered  dead  leaves  and 
shreds  of  fibrous  inner  bark,  and  knelt  beside  the 
dull  coals  to  blow  them  into  life.  She  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  having  to  confess  her  care 
lessness  to  Blake. 

The  hot  ashes  flew  up  in  her  face  and  powdered 
her  hair  with  their  gray  dust ;  yet  she  persisted, 
blowing  steadily  until  a  shred  of  bark  caught  the 
sparks  and  flared  up  in  a  tiny  flame.  A  little 
more,  and  she  had  a  strong  fire  blazing  against 
the  tree  trunk. 

She  rested  a  short  time,  relaxing  both  mentally 
and  physically  in  the  satisfying  consciousness  that 
Blake  never  should  know  how  near  she  had  come 
to  failing  in  her  trust. 

Soon  she  became  aware  of  a  keen  feeling  of 
thirst  and  hunger.  She  rose,  piled  a  fresh  supply 
of  sticks  on  the  fire,  and  hastened  back  through 
the  cleft  towards  the  spring.  Around  the  baobab 

9  [  129  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

she  came  upon  Winthrope,  working  in  the  shade 
of  the  great  tree.  The  three  leopard  skins  had 
been  stretched  upon  bamboo  frames,  and  he  was 
resignedly  scraping  at  their  inner  surfaces  with  a 
smooth-edged  stone.  Miss  Leslie  did  not  look  too 
closely  at  the  operation. 

"  Where  is  —  he  I  "  she  asked. 

Winthrope  motioned  down  the  cleft. 

"  I  hope  he  has  n't  gone  far.  I  'm  half  famished. 
Are  n't  you  I  " 

"  Really,  Miss  Genevieve,  it  is  odd,  you  know. 
Not  an  hour  since,  the  very  thought  of  food  —  " 

"  And  now  you  're  as  hungry  as  I  am.  Oh,  I 
do  wish  he  had  not  gone  off  just  at  the  wrong 
time!" 

"  He  went  to  take  a  dip  in  the  sea.  You  know, 
he  got  so  messed  up  over  the  nastiest  part  of  the 
work,  which  I  positively  refused  to  do  —  " 

"  What 's  that  beyond  the  bamboos  ?— There 's 
something  alive !  " 

"  Pray,  don't  be  alarmed.  It  is  —  er  —  it 's  all 
right,  Miss  Genevieve,  I  assure  you." 

;<  But  what  is  it !  Such  queer  noises,  and  I 
see  something  alive  ! " 

' '  Only  the  vultures,  if  you  must  know.  Nothing 
else,  I  assure  you." 

"Oh!" 

"  It  is  all  out  of  sight  from  the  spring.     You  are 

[  130  ] 


PROBLEMS     IN    WOODCRAFT 

not  to  go  around  the  bamboos  until  the  —  that  is, 
not  to-day." 

"  Did  Mr.  Blake  say  that  I " 

"Why,  yes  —  to  be  sure.  He  also  said  to  tell 
you  that  the  cutlets  were  on  the  top  shelf." 

"  You  mean  —  I  " 

"  His  way  of  ordering  you  to  cook  our  dinner. 
Really,  Miss  Genevieve,  I  should  be  pleased  to 
take  your  place,  but  I  have  been  told  to  keep  to 
this.  It  is  hard  to  take  orders  from  a  low  fellow, 
—  very  hard  for  a  gentleman,  you  know." 

Miss  Leslie  gazed  at  her  shapely  hands.  Three 
days  since  she  could  not  have  conceived  of  their 
being  so  rough  and  scratched  and  dirty.  Yet 
her  disgust  at  their  condition  was  not  entirely 
unqualified. 

"At  least  I  have  something  to  show  for  them," 
she  murmured. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  Winthrope. 

"Just  look  at  my  hands  —  like  a  servant's  1 
And  yet  I  am  not  nearly  so  ashamed  of  them  as 
I  would  have  fancied.  It  is  very  amusing,  but 
do  you  know,  I  actually  feel  proud  that  I  have 
done  something —  something  useful,  I  mean." 

"  Useful  ?  —  I  call  it  shocking,  Miss  Genevieve. 
It  is  simply  vile  that  people  of  our  breeding 
should  be  compelled  to  do  such  menial  work. 
They  write  no  end  of  romances  about  castaways ; 

[131] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

but  I  fail  to  see  the  romance  in  scraping  skins 
Indian  fashion,  as  this  fellow  Blake  calls  it." 

"I  suppose,  though,  we  should  remember  how 
much  Mr.  Blake  is  doing  for  us,  and  should  try 
to  make  the  best  of  the  situation." 

"  It  has  no  best.  It  is  all  a  beastly  muddle," 
complained  Winthrope,  and  he  resumed  his  ner 
vous  scraping  at  the  big  leopard  skin. 

The  girl  studied  his  face  for  a  moment,  and 
turned  away.  She  had  been  trying  so  hard  to 
forget. 

He  heard  her  leave,  and  called  after,  without 
looking  up:  "Please  remember.  He  said  to 
cook  some  meat." 

She  did  not  answer.  Having  satisfied  her 
thirst  at  the  spring,  she  took  one  of  the  bamboo 
rods,  with  its  haggled  blackening  pieces  of  flesh, 
and  returned  to  the  fire.  After  some  little  ex 
perimenting,  she  contrived  a  way  to  support  the 
rod  beside  the  fire  so  that  all  the  meat  would 
roast  without  burning. 

At  first,  keen  as  was  her  hunger,  she  turned 
with  disgust  from  the  flabby  sun-seared  flesh ; 
but  as  it  began  to  roast,  the  odor  restored  her 
appetite  to  full  vigor.  Her  mouth  fairly  watered. 
It  seemed  as  though  Winthrope  and  Blake  would 
never  come.  She  heard  their  voices,  and  took 
the  bamboo  spit  from  the  fire  for  the  meat  to 

[132] 


PROBLEMS     IN     WOODCRAFT 

cool.  Still  they  failed  to  appear,  and  unable  to 
wait  longer,  she  began  to  eat.  The  cub  meat 
proved  far  more  tender  than  that  of  the  old 
leopard.  She  had  helped  herself  to  the  second 
piece  before  the  two  men  appeared. 

"  Hold  on,  Miss  Jenny ;  fair  play !  "  sang  out 
Blake.  "  You  've  set  to  without  tooting  the 
dinner-horn.  I  don't  blame  you,  though.  That 
smells  mighty  good." 

Both  men  caught  at  the  hot  meat  with  eager 
ness,  and  Winthrope  promptly  forgot  all  else  in 
the  animal  pleasure  of  satisfying  his  hunger. 
Blake,  though  no  less  hungry,  only  waited  to  fill 
his  mouth  before  investigating  the  condition  of 
the  prospective  tree  ladder.  The  result  of  the 
attempt  to  burn  the  trunk  did  not  seem  encourag 
ing  to  the  others,  and  Miss  Leslie  looked  away, 
that  her  face  might  not  betray  her,  should  he 
have  an  inkling  of  her  neglect.  She  was  relieved 
by  the  cheerfulness  of  his  tone. 

"  Slow  work,  this  fire  business  —  eh  1  Guess, 
though,  it  '11  go  faster  this  afternoon.  The  green 
wood  is  killed  and  is  getting  dried  out.  Any 
way,  we  've  got  to  keep  at  it  till  the  tree  goes 
over.  This  spring  leopard  won't  last  long  at  the 
present  rate  of  consumption,  and  we  '11  need  the 
eggs  to  keep  us  going  till  we  get  the  hang  of  our 
bows." 

[133] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

tl  What  is  that  smoke  back  there  I "  interrupted 
Miss  Leslie.  "  Can  it  be  that  the  fire  down  the 
cleft  has  sprung  up  again  ?  " 

"  No ;  it 's  your  fumigation.  You  had  plenty 
of  brush  on  hand,  so  I  heaved  it  into  the  hole, 
and  touched  it  off.  While  it's  burning  out,  you 
can  put  in  time  gathering  grass  and  leaves  for  a 
bed." 

"Would  you  and  Mr.  Winthrope  mind  break 
ing  off  some  bamboos  for  me  I  " 

"What  for?" 

Miss  Leslie  colored  and  hesitated.  "I  —  I 
should  like  to  divide  off  a  corner  of  the  place 
with  a  wall  or  screen." 

Winthrope  tried  to  catch  Blake's  eye ;  but  the 
American  was  gazing  at  Miss  Leslie's  embar 
rassed  face  with  a  puzzled  look.  Her  meaning 
dawned  upon  him,  and  he  hastened  to  reply. 

"All  right,  Miss  Jenny.  You  can  build  your 
wall  to  suit  yourself.  But  there  '11  be  no  hurry 
over  it.  Until  the  rains  begin,  Win  and  I  '11  sleep 
out  in  the  open.  We  '11  have  to  take  turn  about 
on  watch  at  night,  anyway.  If  we  don't  keep 
up  a  fire,  some  other  spotted  kitty  will  be  sure  to 
come  nosing  up  the  gully." 

"There  must  also  be  lions  in  the  vicinity," 
added  Winthrope. 

Miss  Leslie  said  nothing  until  after   the  last 
[  134  ] 


PROBLEMS     IN     WOODCRAFT 

pieces  of  meat  had  been  handed  around,  and 
Blake  sprang  up  to  resume  work. 

"  Mr.  Blake,"  she  called,  in  a  low  tone ;  "  one 
moment,  please.  Would  it  save  much  bother  if 
a  door  was  made,  and  you  and  Mr.  Winthrope 
should  sleep  inside  ?  " 

"We'll  see  about  that  later,"  replied  Blake, 
carelessly. 

The  girl  bit  her  lip,  and  the  tears  started  to  her 
eyes.  Even  Winthrope  had  started  off  without 
expressing  his  appreciation.  Yet  he  at  least 
should  have  realized  how  much  it  had  cost  her 
to  make  such  an  offer. 

By  evening  she  had  her  tree-cave  —  house,  she 
preferred  to  name  it  to  herself — in  a  habitable 
condition.  When  the  purifying  fire  had  burnt 
itself  out,  leaving  the  place  free  from  all  odors 
other  than  the  wholesome  smell  of  wood  smoke, 
she  had  asked  Blake  how  she  could  rake  out  the 
ashes.  His  advice  was  to  wet  them  down  where 
they  lay. 

This  was  easier  said  than  done.  Fortunately, 
the  spring  was  only  a  few  yards  distant,  and  after 
many  trips,  with  her  palm-leaf  hat  for  bowl,  the 
girl  carried  enough  water  to  sprinkle  all  the 
powdery  ashes.  Over  them  she  strewed  the  leaves 
and  grass  which  she  had  gathered  while  the  fire 
was  burning.  The  driest  of  the  grass,  arranged 

[  135  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

in  a  far  corner,  promised  a  more  comfortable  bed 
than  had  been  her  lot  for  the  last  three  nights. 

During-  this  work  she  had  been  careful  not  to 
forget  the  fire  at  the  tree.  Yet  when,  near  sun 
down,  she  called  the  others  to  the  third  meal  of 
leopard  meat,  Blake  grumbled  at  the  tree  for 
being  what  he  termed  such  a  confounded  tough 
proposition. 

"  Good  thing  there's  lots  of  wood  here,  Win," 
he  added.  "We'll  keep  this  fire  going  till  the 
blamed  thing  topples  over,  if  it  takes  a  year." 

"  Oh,  but  you  surely  will  not  stay  so  far  from 
the  baobab  to-night !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Leslie. 

"Hold  hard!"  soothed  Blake.  "You've  no 
license  to  get  the  jumps  yet  a  while.  We  '11  have 
another  fire  by  the  baobab.  So  you  need  n't 
worry." 

A  few  minutes  later  they  went  back  to  the 
baobab,  and  Winthrope  began  helping  Miss  Leslie 
to  construct  a  bamboo  screen  in  the  narrow  en 
trance  of  the  tree-cave,  while  Blake  built  the 
second  fire. 

As  Winthrope  was  unable  to  tell  time  by  the 
stars,  Blake  took  the  first  watch.  At  sunset, 
following  the  engineer's  advice,  Winthrope  lay 
down  with  his  feet  to  the  small  watch-fire,  and 
was  asleep  before  twilight  had  deepened  into 
night.  Fagged  out  by  the  mental  and  bodily 

[136] 


PROBLEMS     IN    WOODCRAFT 

stress  of  the  day,  he  slept  so  soundly  that  it 
seemed  to  him  he  had  hardly  lost  consciousness 
when  he  was  roused  by  a  rough  hand  on  his 
forehead. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  mumbled. 

"  'Bout  one  o'clock,"  said  Blake.  "Wake  up! 
I  ran  overtime,  'cause  the  morning  watch  is  the 
toughest.  But  I  can't  keep  'wake  any  longer." 

"  I  say,  this  is  a  beastly  bore,"  remarked 
Winthrope,  sitting  up. 

"  Uin-m,"  grunted  Blake,  who  was  already  on 
his  back. 

Winthrope  rubbed  his  eyes,  rose  wearily,  and 
drew  a  blazing  stick  from  the  fire.  With  this  up 
raised  as  a  torch,  he  peered  around  into  the  dark 
ness,  and  advanced  towards  the  spring. 

When,  having  satisfied  his  thirst,  he  returned 
somewhat  hurriedly  to  the  fire,  he  was  startled  by 
the  sight  of  a  pale  face  gazing  at  him  from  be 
tween  the  leaves  of  the  bamboo  screen. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Genevieve,  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 
he  exclaimed. 

"  Hush  !     Is  he  asleep  ?  " 

"  Like  a  top." 

"  Thank  Heaven !  .  .  .  .  Good-night." 

"  Good-night  —  er  —  I  say,  Miss  Genevieve  — " 

But  the  girl  disappeared,  and  Winthrope,  after 
a  glance  at  Blake's  placid  face,  hurried  along  the 

[1371 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

cleft  to  stack  the  other  fire.  When  he  returned 
he  noticed  two  bamboo  rods  which  Blake  had  be 
gun  to  shape  into  bow  staves.  He  looked  them 
over,  with  a  sneer  at  Blake's  seemingly  unskilful 
workmanship;  but  he  made  no  attempt  to  finish 
the  bows. 


[138] 


CHAPTER    XI 
A   DESPOILED    WARDROBE 

SOON  after  sunrise  Miss  Leslie  was  awakened 
by  the  snap  and   dull  crash  of  a  falling 
tree.     She  made  a  hasty  toilet,  and  ran  out 
around  the  baobab.     The  burned  tree,  eaten  half 
through  by  the  fire,  had  been  pushed  over  against 
the  cliff  by  Blake  and  Winthrope.      Both   had 
already  climbed  up,  and  now  stood  on  the  edge 
of  the  cliff. 

"  Hello,  Miss  Jenny!"  shouted  Blake.    "We  've 
got  here  at  last.     Want  to  come  up  !  " 
"Not  now,  thank  you." 

"It's  easy  enough.  But  you're  right.  Try 
your  hand  again  at  the  cutlets,  won't  you  I  While 
they  're  frying,  we  '11  get  some  eggs  for  dessert. 
How  does  that  strike  you  I  " 

"  We  have  no  way  to  cook  them." 
"  Roast  'em  in  the  ashes.     So  long !  " 
Miss  Leslie  cooked  breakfast  over  the  watch- 
fire,  for  the  other  had  been  scattered  and  stamped 
out  by  the  men  when  the  tree  fell.     They  came 
back  in  good  time,  walking  carefully,  that  they 

[139] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

might  not  break  the  eggs  with  which  their  pockets 
bulged.  Between  them,  they  had  brought  a  round 
dozen  and  a  half.  Blake  promptly  began  stow 
ing  all  in  the  hot  ashes,  while  Winthrope  related 
their  little  adventure  with  unwonted  enthusiasm. 

"You  should  have  come  with  us,  Miss  Gene- 
vieve,"  he  began.  "  This  time  of  day  it  is 
glorious  on  the  cliff  top.  Though  the  rock  is 
bare,  there  is  a  fine  view  —  " 

"  Fine  view  of  grub  near  the  end,"  interpolated 
Blake. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  the  birds  —  you  must  take  a  look 
at  them,  Miss  Grenevieve !  The  sea  end  of  the 
cliff  is  alive  with  them  —  hundreds  and  thousands, 
all  huddled  together  and  fighting  for  room.  They 
are  a  sight,  I  assure  you !  They  're  plucky,  too. 
It  was  well  we  took  sticks  with  us.  As  it  was, 
one  of  the  gannets  —  boobies,  Blake  calls  them  — 
caught  me  a  nasty  nip  when  I  went  to  lift  her  off 
the  nest." 

"  Best  way  is  to  kick  them  off,"  explained 
Blake.  "  But  the  point  is  that  we  've  hopped 
over  the  starvation  stile.  Understand  ?  The 
whole  blessed  cliff  end  is  an  omelette  waiting  for 
our  pan.  Pass  the  leopardettes,  Miss  Jenny." 

When  the  last  bit  of  meat  had  disappeared, 
Blake  raked  the  eggs  from  the  ashes,  and  began 
to  crack  them,  solemnly  sniffing  at  each  before  he 

[140] 


A     DESPOILED    WARDROBE 

laid  it   on  its  leaf  platter.     Some  were   a   trifle 
"  high."     None,  however,  were  thrown  away. 

When  it  was  all  over,  Winthrope  contemplated 
the  scattered  shells  with  a  satisfied  air. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  remarked,  "  this  is  the  first 
time  I  have  felt  —  er  —  replenished  since  we 
found  those  cocoanuts." 

"  How  about  one  of  'em  now  to  top  off  on  ? " 
questioned  Blake. 

Miss  Leslie  sighed.  "  Why  did  you  speak  of 
them?  I  am  still  hungry  enough  to  eat  more 
eggs  —  a  dozen  —  that  is,  if  we  had  a  little  salt 
and  butter." 

"  And  a  silver  cup  and  napkins  !  "  added  Blake. 
"  About  the  salt,  though,  we  '11  have  to  get  some 
before  long,  and  some  kind  of  vegetable  food. 
It  won't  do  to  keep  up  this  whole  meat  menu." 

"  If  only  those  little  bamboo  sprouts  were  as 
good  as  they  look  —  like  a  kind  of  asparagus!" 
murmured  Miss  Leslie. 

"I've  heard  that  the  Chinese  eat  them,"  said 
Winthrope. 

"  They  eat  rats,  too,"  commented  Blake. 

"We  might  at  least  try  them,"  persisted  Miss 
Leslie. 

"How?     Raw?" 

"  I  have  heard  papa  tell  of  roasting  corn  when 
he  was  a  boy." 

[141] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"That's  so;  and  roasting-ears  are  better  than 
boiled.  Win,  I  guess  we'll  have  a  sample  of 
bamboo  asparagus  a  la  Les-lee  !  " 

Winthrope  took  the  penknife,  and  fetched  a 
handful  of  young  sprouts  from  the  bamboo 
thicket.  They  were  heated  over  the  coals  on  a 
grill  of  green  branches,  and  devoured  half  raw. 

"  Say,"  mumbled  Blake,  as  he  ruminated  on 
the  last  shoot,  "we're  getting  on  some  for  this 
smell  hole  of  a  coast:  house  and  chicken  ranch, 
and  vegetables  in  our  front  yard  —  We  Ve  got 
old  Bobbie  Crusoe  beat,  hands  down,  on  the 
start-off,  and  he  with  his  shipful  of  stuff  for 
handicap ! " 

"  Then  you  believe  that  the  situation  looks 
more  hopeful,  Mr.  Blake  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  Ve  at  least  got  an  extension  on  our 
note  for  a  week  or  two.  But  I  'm  not  going  to 
coddle  you  with  a  lot  of  lies,  Miss  Jenny. 
There 's  the  fever  coming,  sure  as  fate.  I  may 
stave  it  off  a  while ;  you  and  Win,  ten  to  one, 
will  be  down  in  a  few  days  —  and  not  a  smell 
of  quinine  in  our  commissary.  Then  there  '11  be 
dysentery  and  snakes  and  wild  beasts  —  No ; 
we  're  not  out  of  the  woods  yet,  not  by  a  — 
considerable." 

"  By  Jove,  Blake,"  muttered  Winthrope,  "  I 
must  say,  you  're  not  very  encouraging." 

[142] 


A     DESPOILED     WARDROBE 

" Didn't  say  I  was  trying  to  be." 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,  I  am  sure  papa  will  offer  a 
large  reward  when  the  steamer  is  reported  as  lost. 
There  will  be  ships  searching  for  us  —  " 

"  We  're  not  in  the  British  Channel,  and  I  '11 
bet  what  few  boats  do  coast  along  here  don't  nose 
about  much  among  these  coral  reefs." 

"  I  fancy  it  would  do  no  harm  to  erect  a  signal," 
said  Winthrope. 

"  Only  thing  that  would  make  a  show  is  Miss 
Leslie's  skirt,"  replied  Blake. 

"There  is  the  big  leopard  skin,"  persisted 
Winthrope.  To  his  surprise  the  engineer  took 
the  suggestion  under  serious  consideration. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  If  we  had 
a  water  background,  now.  But  against  the  rock 
and  trees,  —  no ;  what  we  want  is  white.  I  '11  tell 
you  —  when  Miss  Jenny  sets  to  and  makes  her 
self  a  dress  of  that  skin,  I  '11  fly  her  skirt  to  the 
zephyrs." 

"  Mr.  Blake !  I  really  think  that  is  cruel  of 
you ! " 

"  Oh,  come  now ;  that 's  not  fair  !  I  would  n't 
have  said  a  word,  but  you  said  you  wanted  to 
help." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Blake.  I  —  I  did  not 
quite  understand  you.  I  really  do  want  to  help 
—  to  do  my  share  —  " 

[143] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Now  you  're  talking  !  You  see,  it 's  not  only 
a  question  of  the  signal,  but  of  clothes.  We  Ve 
got  to  figure  anyway  on  needing  new  ones  before 
long.  Look  at  my  pants  and  vest,  and  Win's  too. 
Inside  a  month  we  '11  all  be  in  hide  —  or  in  hiding. 
That 's  a  joke,  Win,  me  b'y ;  see  ?  " 

"  But  in  the  meantime  —  "  began  Miss  Leslie. 

"  In  the  meantime  we  're  like  to  miss  a  chance 
or  two  of  being  picked  up,  just  because  we've 
failed  to  stick  out  a  signal  that  'd  catch  the  eye 
twice  as  far  off  as  any  other  color  than  scarlet. 
Do  you  suppose  I  worked  my  way  up  from  axe 
man  to  engineer,  and  did  n't  learn  anything  about 
flags?" 

"  But  it  is  all  really  too  absurd  !  I  do  not  know 
the  first  thing  about  sewing,  and  I  have  neither 
thread  nor  needle." 

"  It 's  up  to  you,  though,  if  you  want  to  help. 
My  sisters  sewed  mighty  soon  after  they  learned 
to  toddle.  'Bout  time  you  learned  -  There, 
now  ;  I  did  n't  mean  to  hurt  your  feelings.  You  've 
made  a  fair  stagger  at  cooking,  and  I  bet  you  win 
out  on  the  dressmaking.  For  needle  you  can  use 
one  of  these  long  slim  thorns  —  poke  a  hole,  and 
then  slip  the  thread  through,  like  a  shoemaker." 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  but  the  thread  1 "  put  in  Winthrope. 

"The  cocoanut  fibre  would  hardly  do,"  said 
Miss  Leslie,  forgetting  to  dry  her  eyes. 

[144] 


A     DESPOILED    WARDROBE 

"  No.  We  could  get  fairly  good  fibres  out 
of  the  palm  leaves ;  but  catgut  will  be  a  whole 
lot  better.  I  '11  slit  up  a  lot  for  you,  fine 
enough  to  sew  with.  And  now,  let 's  get  down 
to  tacks.  No  oifence  —  but  did  either  of  you 
ever  learn  to  do  anything  useful  in  all  your 
blessed  little  lives  I  " 

"Why,  Mr.  Blake,  of  course  I  —  " 

"Of  course  what?"  demanded  Blake,  as  Miss 
Leslie  hesitated.  "  We  know  all  about  your 
cooking  and  sewing.  What  else  ?  " 

"I  —  I  see  what  you  meant.  I  fear  that  nothing 
of  what  I  learned  would  be  of  service  now." 

"Boarding-school  rot,  eh?  And  you,  Win- 
thrope 1 " 

"  If  you  would  kindly  name  over  what  you 
have  in  mind." 

"  Urn  !  "  grunted  Blake.  "  Well,  it 's  first  of  all 
a  question  of  a  practical  —  practical,  mind  you, 
—  knowledge  of  metallurgy,  ceramics,  and  how 
to  stick  an  arrow  through  a  beef  roast." 

"I  —  ah  —  I  believe  I  intimated  that  I  have 
some  knowledge  of  archery.  But  I  doubt  —  " 

"  Cut  it  out !  You  '11  have  enough  else  to  do. 
Get  busy  over  those  bows  and  arrows,  and  don't 
quit  till  you've  got  them  in  shape.  Leave  my 
bow  good  and  stiff.  I  can  pull  like  a  mule  can 
kick.  Well,  Miss  Jenny  ;  what  is  it  !  " 
10  [  145  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Is  not  —  has  not  ceramics  something  to  do 
with  burning  china  ?  " 

"  Sure  !  —  china,  pottery,  and  all  that.  Know 
anything  about  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  have  a  friend  who  amuses  herself  by 
painting  china,  and  I  know  it  has  to  be  burned." 

"  And  that's  all !  "  grunted  Blake.  "  Well,  let 
me  tell  you.  When  I  was  a  little  kid  I  used  to 
work  in  a  pottery.  All  I  can  remember  is  that 
they  'd  take  clay,  shape  it  into  a  pot,  dry  it,  and 
bake  the  thing  in  a  kiln.  We  've  got  to  work  the 
same  game  somehow.  This  kind  of  eating  will 
mean  dysentery  in  short  order.  So  there  's  going 
to  be  a  bean-pot  for  our  stews,  or  Tom  Blake  '11 
know  the  reason  why.  Nurse  up  that  ankle  of 
yours,  Win.  We  '11  trek  it  to-morrow  —  cocoa- 
nuts,  and  maybe  something  else.  There  's  clay 
on  the  far  bank  of  the  river,  and  across  from  it  I 
saw  a  streak  that  looked  like  brown  haematite." 


[146] 


CHAPTER    XII 

SURVIVAL   OF  THE  FITTEST 

THE  next  four  days  slipped  by  almost  un 
heeded.  Blake  saw  to  it  that  not  only 
himself  but  his  companions  had  work  to 
occupy  every  hour  of  daylight.  When  not  en 
gaged  in  cooking  and  fuel  gathering,  Miss  Leslie 
was  learning  by  painful  experience  the  rudiments 
of  dressmaking. 

At  the  start  she  had  all  but  ruined  the  beautiful 
skin  of  the  mother  leopard  before  Blake  chanced 
to  see  her  and  took  over  the  task  of  cutting  it 
into  shape  for  a  skirt.  But  when  it  came  to 
making  a  waist  of  the  cub  fur,  he  said  that  she 
would  have  to  puzzle  out  the  pattern  from  her 
other  one.  Between  cooking  three  meals  a  day 
over  an  open  fire,  gathering  several  armfuls  of 
wood,  and  making  a  dress  with  penknife,  thorn, 
and  catgut,  the  girl  had  little  time  to  think  of 
other  matters  than  her  work. 

Winthrope  had  been  gazetted  as  hunter  in 
ordinary.  His  task  was  to  keep  Miss  Leslie  sup 
plied  with  fresh  eggs  and  each  day  to  kill  as 

[147] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

many  of  the  boobies  and  cormorants  as  he  could 
skin  and  split  for  drying.  Blake  had  changed 
his  mind  about  taking  him  when  he  went  for 
cocoanuts.  Instead,  he  had  gone  alone  on  sev 
eral  trips,  bringing  three  or  four  loads  of  nuts, 
then  a  little  salt  from  the  seashore,  dirty  but  very 
welcome,  and  last  of  all  a  great  lump  of  clay, 
wrapped  in  palm  fronds. 

With  this  clay  he  at  once  began  experiments 
in  the  art  of  pottery.  Having  mixed  and  beaten 
a  small  quantity,  he  moulded  it  into  little  cups 
and  bowls,  and  tried  burning  them  over  night  in 
the  watch-fire.  A  few  came  out  without  crack  or 
flaw.  Vastly  elated  by  this  success,  he  fashioned 
larger  vessels  from  his  clay,  and  within  the  week 
could  brag  of  two  pots  suitable  for  cooking  stews, 
and  four  large  nondescript  pieces  which  he  called 
plates.  What  was  more,  all  had  a  fairly  good 
sand  glaze,  for  he  had  been  quick  to  observe  a 
glaze  on  the  bottoms  of  the  first  pots,  and  had 
reasoned  out  that  it  was  due  to  the  sand  which 
had  adhered  while  they  stood  drying  in  the  sun. 

He  next  turned  his  attention  to  metallurgy. 
The  first  move  was  to  search  the  river  bank  for 
the  brown  bog  iron  ore  which  he  believed  he 
had  seen  from  the  farther  side.  After  a  danger 
ous  and  exhausting  day's  work  in  the  mire  and 
jungle,  he  came  back  with  nothing  more  to  show 

[148] 


SURVIVAL    OF    THE     FITTEST 

for  his  pains  than  an  armful  of  creepers.  Late 
in  the  afternoon,  he  had  located  the  haematite, 
only  to  find  it  lying  in  a  streak  so  thin  that  he 
could  not  hope  to  collect  enough  for  practical 
purposes. 

"  Lucky  we  Ve  got  something  to  fall  back  on," 
he  added,  after  telling  of  his  failure.  "  Pass  over 
those  keys  of  yours,  Win.  Good !  Now  un 
tangle  those  creepers.  To-night  we  '11  take  turns 
knotting  them  up  into  some  sort  of  a  rope-ladder. 
I  'm  getting  mighty  weary  of  hoofing  it  all 
around  the  point  every  time  I  trot  to  the  river. 
After  this  I  '11  go  down  the  cliff"  at  that  end  of 
the  gully." 

Winthrope,  who  had  become  very  irritable  and 
depressed  during  the  last  two  days,  turned  on 
his  heel,  with  the  look  of  a  fretful  child. 

To  cover  this  undiplomatic  rudeness,  Miss 
Leslie  spoke  somewhat  hurriedly.  "  But  why 
should  you  return  again  to  the  river,  Mr.  Blake  ? 
I'm  sure  you  are  risking  the  fever;  and  there 
must  be  savage  beasts  in  the  jungle." 

" That's  my  business,"  growled  Blake.  He 
paused  a  moment,  and  added,  rather  less  un 
graciously,  "  Well,  if  you  care,  it 's  this  way  — 
I  'in  going  to  keep  on  looking  for  ore.  Give  me 
a  little  iron  ore,  and  we  '11  mighty  soon  have  a 
lot  of  steel  knives  and  arrow-heads  that  '11  amount 

[149] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

to  something.  How  're  we  going  to  bag  anything 
worth  while  with  bamboo  tips  on  our  arrows? 
Those  boar  tusks  are  a  fizzle." 

"  So  you  will  continue  to  risk  your  life  for  us  I 
I  think  that  is  very  brave  and  generous,  Mr. 
Blake  ! " 

"How's  that!  "  demanded  Blake,  not  a  little 
puzzled.  He  was  fully  conscious  of  the  risk ;  but 
this  was  the  first  intimation  he  had  received  or 
conceived  that  his  motives  were  other  than  self 
ish —  "  Um-m  !  So  that's  the  ticket.  Getting 
generous,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  getting  —  you  are  generous  !  When  I 
think  of  all  you  have  done  for  us  !  Had  it  not 
been  for  you,  I  am  sure  we  should  have  died 
that  first  day  ashore." 

"  Well,  don't  blame  me.  I  could  n't  have  let 
a  dog  die  that  way ;  and  then,  a  fellow  needs  a 
Man  Friday  for  this  sort  of  thing.  As  for  you,  I 
have  n't  always  had  the  luck  to  be  favored  with 
ladies'  company." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Blake.  I  quite  appreciate 
the  compliment.  But  now,  I  must  put  on  supper." 

Blake  followed  her  graceful  movements  with  an 
intentness  which,  in  turn,  drew  Winthrope's  atten 
tion  to  himself.  The  Englishman  smiled  in  a  dis 
agreeable  manner,  and  resumed  his  work  on  the 

o 

bows,  with  the  look  of  one  mentally  preoccupied. 

[150] 


SURVIVAL    OF    THE     FITTEST 

After  supper  he  found  occasion  to  spend  some 
little  time  among  the  bamboos. 

When  at  sunset  Miss  Leslie  withdrew  into  the 
baobab,  Winthrope  somewhat  officiously  insisted 
upon  helping  her  set  up  her  screen  in  the  en 
trance.  As  he  did  so,  he  took  the  opportunity  to 
hand  her  a  bamboo  knife,  and  to  draw  her  atten 
tion  to  several  double-pointed  bamboo  stakes 
which  he  had  hidden  under  the  litter. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  asked,  troubled  by  his  fur 
tive  glance  back  at  Blake. 

11  Merely  precaution,  you  know,"  he  whispered. 
"  The  ground  in  there  is  quite  soft.  It  will  be 
no  trouble,  I  fancy,  to  put  up  the  stakes,  with 
their  points  inclined  towards  the  entrance." 

"  But  why—  " 

"Not  so  loud,  Miss  Genevieve !  It  struck 
me  that  if  any  one  should  seek  to  enter  in  the 
night,  he  would  find  these  stakes  deucedly  un 
pleasant.  Be  careful  how  you  handle  them.  As 
you  see,  the  sharper  points,  which  are  to  be 
set  uppermost,  run  off  into  a  razor  edge.  Put 
them  up  now,  before  it  grows  too  dark.  You 
know  how  ninepins  are  set  —  that  shape.  Good 
night  !  You  see,  with  these  to  guard  the  en 
trance,  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  go  to  sleep 
at  once." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  whispered,  and  began  to 
[  151  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

thrust  the  stakes  into  the  ground  as  he  had 
directed. 

He  had  not  been  mistaken.  The  vague  doubts 
and  fears  which  she  already  entertained  would 
have  kept  her  awake  throughout  the  night,  but 
thanks  to  the  sense  of  security  afforded  by  the 
sword-bayonets  of  her  silent  little  sentries,  the 
girl  was  soon  able  to  calm  herself,  and  was  fast 
asleep  long  before  Blake  wakened  Winthrope. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  Blake  —  who  had 
spent  his  watch  in  grinding  the  edges  from  a  stone 
and  experimenting  with  split  and  bent  twigs  — 
put  Winthrope's  keys  in  the  fire,  and  began 
an  attempt  to  shape  them  into  a  knife-blade. 
To  heat  the  steel  to  the  required  temperature, 
he  used  a  bamboo  blowpipe,  with  his  lungs  for 
bellows. 

Winthrope  turned  away  with  an  indifferent 
bearing ;  but  Miss  Leslie  found  herself  compelled 
to  stop  and  admire  his  dexterous  use  of  his  rude 
tools. 

One  after  another,  the  keys  were  welded  to 
gether,  end  to  end,  in  a  narrow  ribbon  of  steel. 
The  thinnest  one,  however,  was  not  fastened  to 
the  tip  until  it  had  been  used  to  burn  a  groove  in 
the  edge  of  a  rib,  selected  from  among  the  bones 
which  Miss  Leslie  had  thrown  out  of  the  baobab. 
The  last  key  was  then  fastened  to  the  others  ; 

[152] 


SURVIVAL    OF    THE     FITTEST 

the  blade  ground  sharp,  tempered,  and  inserted 
in  the  groove.  Finally,  pieces  of  the  key-ring 
were  fitted  in  bands  around  the  bone,  through 
notches  cut  in  the  ends  of  the  steel  blade.  The 
result  was  a  bone-handled,  bone-backed  knife, 
with  a  narrow  cutting  edge  of  fine  steel. 

Long  before  it  was  finished  Miss  Leslie  had 
been  forced  away  by  the  requirements  of  her 
own  work.  In  fact,  Blake  did  not  complete  his 
task  until  late  in  the  afternoon.  At  the  end,  he 
spent  more  than  an  hour  grinding  the  handle  into 
shape.  When  he  came  to  show  the  completed 
knife  to  Miss  Leslie,  he  was  fairly  aglow  with 
justifiable  pride. 

"  How's   that   for   an  Eskimo   iob?"  he   de- 

•7 

manded.     "Bunch  of  keys  and  a  bone,  eh  1" 
"  You  are  certainly  very  ingenious,  Mr.  Blake!  " 
"  Nixy !    There's  little  of  the  inventor  in  my 

top  piece  —  only  some  hustle  and  a  good  memory. 

I  was  up  in  Alaska,  you  know.     Saw  a  sight  of 

Eskimo  work." 

"  Still,  it  is  very  skilfully  done." 

"  That  may  be  —    Look  out  for  the   edge ! 

It  'd  do  to  shave.     No  more  bamboo  splinters  for 

me  —  dull  when  you  hit  a  piece  of  bone.     I  'm 

ready  now  to  skin  a  rhinoceros." 
"  If  you  can  catch  one  !  " 

"  Guess  we  could  find  enough  of  them  around 
[  153  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

here,  all  right.      But  we'll  start  in  on  some  of 
Win's  sheep  and  cattle." 

"  Oh,  do !  One  grows  tired  of  eggs,  and  all 
these  sea-birds  are  so  tough  and  fishy,  no  matter 
how  I  cook  them." 

"  We  '11  sneak  down  to  the  pool,  and  make  a 
try  with  the  bows  this  evening.  I  '11  give  odds, 
though,  that  we  draw  a  blank.  Win  's  got  the 
aim,  but  no  drive  ;  I  've  got  the  drive,  but  no  aim. 
Even  if  I  hit  an  antelope,  I  don't  think  a  bamboo- 
pointed  arrow  would  bother  him  much." 

"  Don't  the  savages  kill  game  without  iron 
weapons  I " 

"  Sure ;  but  a  lot  have  flint  points,  and  a  lot  of 
others  use  poison.  I  know  that  the  Apaches  and 
some  of  those  other  Southern  Indians  used  to  fix 
their  arrows  with  rattlesnake  poison." 

"  How  horrible  !  " 

"  Well,  that  depends  on  how  you  look  at  it.  I 
guess  they  thought  guns  more  horrible  when 
they  tackled  the  whites  and  got  the  day 
light  let  through  'em.  At  any  rate,  they  swapped 
arrows  for  rifles  mighty  quick,  and  any  one 
who  knows  Apaches  will  tell  you  it  was  n't 
because  they  thought  bullets  would  do  less  dam- 
age." 

"  Yet  the  thought  of  poison  —  " 

"  Yes ;    but  the  thought  of  self-preservation ! 
[154] 


SURVIVAL     OF    THE     FITTEST 

Sooner  than  starve,  I  'd  poison  every  animal  in 
Africa  —  and  so  would  you." 

"I — I  —  You  put  it  in  such  a  horrible  way. 
One  must  consider  others,  animals  as  well  as 
people ;  and  yet  —  " 

"  Survival  of  the  fittest.  I  've  read  some  things, 
and  I  'HI  no  fool,  if  I  do  say  it  myself.  For  in 
stance,  I  'm  the  boss  here,  because  I  'm  the  fittest 
of  our  crowd  in  this  environment;  but  back  in 
what 's  called  civilized  parts,  where  the  law  lets 
a  few  shrewd  fellows  monopolize  the  means  of 
production,  a  man  like  your  father  —  " 

"  Mr.  Blake,  it  is  not  my  fault  if  papa's  position 
in  the  business  world  —  " 

"Nor  his,  either  —  it's  the  cussed  system! 
No  ;  that 's  all  right,  Miss  Jenny.  I  was  only  il 
lustrating.  Now,  I  take  it,  both  you  and  Win 
would  like  to  get  rid  of  a  boss  like  me,  if  you 
could  get  rid  of  Africa  at  the  same  time.  As  it 
is,  though,  I  guess  you'd  rather  have  me  for 
boss,  and  live,  than  be  left  all  by  your  lone- 
somes,  to  starve." 

"  I  —  I  'm  sure  there  is  no  question  of  your 
leadership,  Mr.  Blake.  We  have  both  tried  our 
best  to  do  what  you  have  asked  of  us." 

"  You  have,  at  least.  But  I  know.  If  a  ship 
should  come  to-morrow,  it'd  be  Blake  to  the 
back  seat.  '  Papa,  give  this  —  er  —  person  a 

[155] 


INTO     THE     PRI  MITI VE 

check  for   his   services,   while   I  chase  off  with 
Winnie,  to   get  my  look-in   on  'Is   Ri-yal   'Igh- 


ness.' 


Miss  Leslie  flushed  crimson  —  "  I  'm  sure, 
Mr.  Blake  —  " 

"  Oh,  don't  let  that  worry  you,  Miss  Jenny. 
It  don't  me.  I  could  n't  be  sore  with  you  if  I 
tried.  Just  the  same,  I  know  what  it  '11  be  like. 
I've  rubbed  elbows  enough  with  snobs  and  big 
bugs  to  know  what  kind  of  consideration  they 
give  one  of  the  mahsses  —  unless  one  of  the 
mahsses  has  the  drop  on  them.  Hello,  Win ! 
What 's  kept  you  so  late  ?  " 

"  None  of  your  business !  "  snapped  Winthrope. 

Miss  Leslie  glanced  at  him,  even  more  puzzled 
and  startled  by  this  outbreak  than  she  had  been 
by  Blake's  strange  talk.  But  if  Blake  was 
angered,  he  did  not  show  it. 

"  Say,  Win,"  he  remarked  gravely,  "  I  was 
going  to  take  you  down  to  the  pool  after  supper, 
on  a  try  with  the  bows.  But  I  guess  you  'd 
better  stay  close  by  the  fire." 

"  Yes ;  it  is  time  you  gave  a  little  consideration 
to  those  who  deserve  it,"  rejoined  Winthrope, 
with  a  peevishness  of  tone  and  manner  which 
surprised  Miss  Leslie.  "  I  tell  you,  I  'm  tired 
of  being  treated  like  a  dog." 

"  All  right,  all  right,  old  man.  Just  draw  up 
[  1561 


SURVIVAL    OF    THE     FITTEST 

your  chair,  and  get  all  the  hot  broth  aboard  you 
can  stow,"  answered  Blake,  soothingly. 

Winthrope  sat  down ;  but  throughout  the  meal, 
he  continued  to  complain  over  trifles  with  the 
peevishness  of  a  spoiled  child,  until  Miss  Leslie 
blushed  for  him.  Greatly  to  her  astonishment, 
Blake  endured  the  nagging  without  a  sign  of 
irritation,  and  in  the  end  took  his  bow  and 
arrows  and  went  off  down  the  cleft,  with  no  more 
than  a  quiet  reminder  to  Winthrope  that  he  should 
keep  near  the  fire. 

When,  shortly  after  dark,  the  engineer  came 
groping  his  way  back  up  the  gorge,  he  was  by 
no  means  so  calm.  Out  of  six  shots,  he  had  hit 
one  antelope  in  the  neck  and  another  in  the 
haunch ;  yet  both  animals  had  made  off  all  the 
swifter  for  their  wounds. 

The  noise  of  his  approach  awakened  Winthrope, 
who  turned  over,  and  began  to  complain  in  a 
whining  falsetto.  Miss  Leslie,  who  was  peering 
out  through  the  bars  of  her  screen,  looked  to  see 
Blake  kick  the  prostrate  man.  His  frown  showed 
only  too  clearly  that  he  was  in  a  savage  temper. 
To  her  astonishment,  he  spoke  in  a  soothing  tone 
until  Winthrope  again  fell  asleep.  Then  he 
quietly  set  about  erecting  a  canopy  of  bamboos 
over  the  sleeper. 

Just  why  he  should  build  this  was  a  puzzle  to 
[157] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

the  girl.  But  when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Blake's  altered  expression,  she  drew  a  deep 
breath  of  relief,  and  picked  her  way  around  the 
edge  of  her  bamboo  stakes,  to  lie  down  without  a 
trace  of  the  fear  which  had  been  haunting  her. 


[158] 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  MARK  OF  THE  BEAST 

MORNING  found  Winthrope  more  irri 
table  and  peevish  than  ever.  Though 
he  had  not  been  called  on  watch  by 
Blake  until  long  after  midnight,  he  had  soon 
fallen  asleep  at  his  post  and  permitted  the  fire  to 
die  out.  Shortly  before  dawn,  Blake  was  roused 
by  a  pack  of  jackals,  snarling  and  quarrelling 
over  the  half-dried  seafowl.  To  charge  upon  the 
thieves  and  put  them  to  flight  with  a  few  blows 
of  his  club  took  but  a  moment.  Yet  daylight 
showed  more  than  half  the  drying  frames  empty. 

Blake  was  staring  glumly  at  them,  with  his 
broad  back  to  Winthrope,  when  Miss  Leslie 
appeared.  The  sudden  cessation  of  Winthrope's 
complaints  brought  his  companion  around  on  the 
instant.  The  girl  stood  before  him,  clad  from 
neck  to  foot  in  her  leopard-skin  dress. 

"Well,  I'll  be  —  dashed!"  he  exclaimed,  and 
he  stood  staring  at  her  open-mouthed. 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  warm.  Do  you  think  it  be 
coming  I  "  she  asked,  flushing,  and  turning  as 
though  to  show  the  fit  of  the  costume. 

[159] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Do  1 f  "  he  echoed.  "  Miss  Jenny,  you  're  a 
peach  !  " 

" Thank  you,"  she  said.  "And  here  is  the 
skirt.  I  have  ripped  it  open.  You  see,  it  will 
make  a  fine  flag." 

"If  it's  put  up.  Seems  a  pity,  though,  to  do 
that,  when  we  're  getting  on  so  fine.  What  do 
you  say  to  leaving  it  down,  and  starting  a  little 
colony  of  our  own  ?  " 

Miss  Leslie  raised  the  skirt  in  her  outstretched 
hands.  Behind  it  her  face  became  white  as  the 
cloth. 

"Well!"  demanded  Blake  soberly,  though  his 
eyes  were  twinkling. 

"  You  forget  the  fever,"  she  retorted  mockingly, 
and  Blake  failed  to  catch  the  quaver  beneath 
the  light  remark. 

"  Say,  you  've  got  me  there ! "  he  admitted. 
"  Just  pass  over  your  flag,  and  scrape  up  some 
grub.  I  '11  be  breaking  out  a  big  bamboo.  There 
are  plenty  of  holes  and  loose  stones  on  the  cliff. 
We  '11  have  the  signal  up  before  noon." 

Miss  Leslie  murmured  her  thanks,  and  immedi 
ately  set  about  the  preparation  of  breakfast. 

When  Blake  had  the  bamboo  ready,  with  one 
edge  of  the  broad  piece  of  white  duck  lashed  to  it 
with  catgut  as  high  up  as  the  tapering  staff  would 
bear,  he  called  upon  Winthrope  to  accompany  him. 

[160] 


THE     MARK     OF    THE    BEAST 

"You  can  go,  too,  Miss  Jenny,"  he  added. 
"You  haven't  been  on  the  cliff  yet,  and  you 
ought  to  celebrate  the  occasion." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  replied  the  girl.  "  I  'm  still 
unprepared  to  climb  precipices,  even  though  my 
costume  is  that  of  a  savage." 

"  Savage  ?  Great  Scott !  that  leopard  dress 
would  win  out  against  any  set  of  Russian  furs 
a-going,  and  I  've  heard  they  're  considered  all 
kinds  of  dog.  Come  on.  I  can  swing  you  into 
the  branches,  and  it 's  easy  from  there  up." 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  please." 

"Yes,  you  can  go  alone,"  interposed  Win- 
thrope.  "  I  am  indisposed  this  morning,  and, 
what  is  more,  I  have  had  enough  of  your 
dictation." 

"  You  have,  have  you  ?  "  growled  Blake,  his 
patience  suddenly  come  to  an  end.  "  Well,  let 
me  tell  you,  Miss  Leslie  is  a  lady,  and  if  she 
don't  want  to  go,  that  settles  it.  But  as  for  you, 
you  '11  go,  if  I  have  to  kick  you  every  step." 

Winthrope  cringed  back,  and  broke  into  a 
childish  whine.  "Don't — don't  do  it,  Blake  — 
Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Genevieve,  how  can  you  stand 
by  and  see  him  abuse  me  like  this  1  " 

Blake  was  grinning  as  he  turned  to  Miss  Leslie. 
Her  face  was  flushed  and  downcast  with  humilia 
tion  for  her  friend.  It  seemed  incredible  that  a 
11  [  161  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

man  of  his  breeding  should  betray  such  weak 
ness.  A  quick  change  came  over  Blake's  face. 

"  Look  here,"  he  muttered,  "  I  guess  I  'm 
enough  of  a  sport  to  know  something  about  fair 
play.  Win  's  coming  down  with  the  fever,  and 's 
no  more  to  blame  for  doing  the  baby  act  than 
he  '11  be  when  he  gets  the  delirium,  and  gabbles." 

"  I  will  thank  you  to  attend  to  your  own 
affairs,"  said  Winthrope. 

''You're  entirely  welcome.  It's  what  I'm 
doing.  —  Do  you  understand,  Miss  Jenny  I " 

"  Indeed,  yes ;  and  I  wish  to  thank  you.  I 
have  noticed  how  patient  you  have  been  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Leslie,"  rasped  Winthrope. 
"  Can  you  not  see  that  for  a  fellow  of  this  class 
to  talk  of  fair  play  and  patience  is  the  height  of 
impertinence  ?  In  England,  now,  such  insuffer 
able  impudence  —  " 

"That'll  do,"  broke  in  Blake.  "It's  time  for 
us  to  trot  along." 

"  But,  Mr.  Blake,  if  he  is  ill  —  " 

"  Just  the  reason  why  he  should  keep  moving. 
No  more  of  your  gab,  Win !  Give  your  jaw  a 
lay-off,  and  try  wiggling  your  legs  instead." 

Winthrope  turned  away,  crimson  with  indigna 
tion.  Blake  paused  only  for  a  parting  word  with 
Miss  Leslie.  "  If  you  want  something  to  do,  Miss 
Jenny,  try  making  yourself  a  pair  of  moccasins 

[162] 


THE     MARK     OF    THE    BEAST 

out  of  the  scraps  of  skin.  You  can't  stay  in  this 
gully  all  the  time.  You  Ve  got  to  tramp  around 
some,  and  those  slippers  must  be  about  done  for." 

"  They  are  still  serviceable.  Yet  if  you 
think  —  " 

"  You  '11  need  good  tough  moccasons  soon 
enough.  Singe  off  the  hair,  and  make  soles  of 
the  thicker  pieces.  If  you  do  a  fair  job,  maybe 
I  '11  employ  you  as  my  cobbler,  soon  as  I  get  the 
hide  off  one  of  those  skittish  antelope." 

Miss  Leslie  nodded  and  smiled  in  response  to 
his  jesting  tone.  But  as  he  swung  away  after 
Winthrope,  she  stood  for  some  time  wondering  at 
herself.  A  few  days  since  she  knew  she  would 
have  taken  Blake's  remark  as  an  insult.  Now 
she  was  puzzled  to  find  herself  rather  pleased 
that  he  should  so  note  her  ability  to  be  of 
service. 

When  she  roused  herself,  and  began  singeing 
the  hair  from  the  odds  and  ends  of  leopard  skin, 
she  discovered  a  new  sensation  to  add  to  her  list 
of  unpleasant  experiences.  But  she  did  not  pause 
until  the  last  patch  of  hair  crisped  close  to  the 
half-cured  surface  of  the  hide.  Fetching  the  pen 
knife  and  her  thorn  and  catgut  from  the  baobab, 
she  gathered  the  pieces  of  skin  together,  and 
walked  along  the  cleft  to  the  ladder-tree.  There 
had  been  time  enough  for  Blake  and  Winthrope 

[163] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

to  set  up  the  signal,  and  she  was  curious  to  see 
how  it  looked. 

She  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  gazed  up 
to  where  the  withered  crown  lay  crushed  against 
the  edge  of  the  cliff.  The  height  of  the  rocky 
wall  made  her  hesitate ;  yet  the  men,  in  passing 
up  and  down,  had  so  cleared  away  the  twigs  and 
leaves  and  broken  the  branches  on  the  upper  side 
of  the  trunk,  that  it  offered  a  means  of  ascent  far 
from  difficult  even  for  a  young  lady. 

The  one  difficulty  was  to  reach  the  lower 
branches.  She  could  hardly  touch  them  with  her 
finger-tips.  But  her  barbaric  costume  must  have 
inspired  her.  She  listened  for  a  moment,  and 
hearing  no  sound  to  indicate  the  return  of  the 
men,  clasped  the  upper  side  of  the  trunk  with  her 
hands  and  knees,  and  made  an  energetic  attempt 
to  climb.  The  posture  was  far  from  dignified, 
but  the  girl's  eyes  sparkled  with  satisfaction  as 
she  found  herself  slowly  mounting. 

When,  flushed  and  breathless,  she  gained  a 
foothold  among  the  branches,  she  looked  down  at 
the  ground,  and  permitted  herself  a  merry  little 
giggle  such  as  she  had  not  indulged  in  since  leav 
ing  boarding-school.  She  had  actually  climbed 
a  tree !  She  would  show  Mr.  Blake  that  she  was 
not  so  helpless  as  he  fancied. 

At  the  thought,  she  clambered  on  up,  finding 
[164J 


THE     MARK     OF    THE    BEAST 

that  the  branches  made  convenient  steps.  She 
did  not  look  back,  and  the  screen  of  tree-tops 
beneath  saved  her  from  any  sense  of  giddiness. 
As  her  head  came  above  the  level  of  the  cliff,  she 
peered  through  the  foliage,  and  saw  the  signal- 
flag  far  over  near  the  end  of  the  headland.  The 
big  piece  of  white  duck  stood  out  bravely  against 
the  blue  sky,  all  the  more  conspicuous  for  the 
flocks  of  frightened  seafowl  which  wheeled  above 
and  around  it. 

Surprised  that  she  did  not  see  the  men,  Miss 
Leslie  started  to  draw  herself  up  over  the  cliff 
edge.  She  heard  Winthrope's  voice  a  few  yards 
away  on  her  left.  A  sudden  realization  that  the 
Englishman  might  consider  her  exploit  ill-bred 
caused  her  to  sink  back  out  of  sight. 

She  was  hesitating  whether  to  descend  or  to 
climb  on  up,  when  Winthrope's  peevish  whine 
was  cut  short  by  a  loud  and  angry  retort  from 
Blake.  Every  word  came  to  the  girl's  ears  with 
the  force  of  a  blow. 

"  You  do,  do  you  ?  Well,  I  'd  like  to  know 
where  in  hell  you  come  in.  She 's  not  your 
sister,  nor  your  mother,  nor  your  aunt,  and  if 
she  's  your  sweetheart,  you  've  both  been  damned 
close-mouthed  over  it." 

There  was  an  irritable,  rasping  murmur  from 
Winthrope,  and  again  came  Blake's  loud  retort. 

r  io.>  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Look  here,  young-  man,  don't  you  forget  you 
called  me  a  cad  once  before.  I  can  stand  a  good 
deal  from  a  sick  man ;  but  I  '11  give  it  to  you 
straight,  you  'd  better  cut  that  out.  Call  me  a 
brute  or  a  savage,  if  that  '11  let  off  your  steam ; 
but,  understand,  I  'm  none  of  your  English 
kinds." 

Again  Winthrope  spoke,  this  time  in  a  fretful 
whine. 

Blake  replied  with  less  anger :  "  That 's  so ; 
and  I  'm  going  to  show  you  that  I  'm  the  real 
thing  when  it  comes  to  being  a  sport.  Give  you 
my  word,  I  '11  make  no  move  till  you  're  through 
the  fever  and  on  your  legs  again.  What  I  '11  do 
then  depends  on  my  own  sweet  will,  and  don't 
you  forget  it.  I  'm  not  after  her  fortune.  It 's 
the  lady  herself  that  takes  my  fancy.  Remem 
ber  what  I  said  to  you  when  you  called  me  a  cad 
the  other  time.  You  had  your  turn  aboard  ship. 
Now  I  can  do  as  I  please ;  and  that 's  what  I  'in 
going  to  do,  if  I  have  to  kick  you  over  the  cliff 
end  first,  to  shut  off  your  pesky  interference." 

The  girl  crouched  back  into  the  withered 
foliage,  dazed  with  terror.  Again  she  heard  Blake 
speak.  He  had  dropped  into  a  bitter  sneer. 

"No  chance?  It's  no  nerve,  you  mean.  You 
could  brain  me,  easy  enough,  any  night  — just 
walk  up  with  a  club  when  I  'm  asleep.  Trouble 

[166] 


THE    MARK    OF    THE    BEAST 

is,  you're  like  most  other  under  dogs  —  'fraid 
that  if  you  licked  your  boss,  there  'd  be  no  soup 
bones.  So  I  guess  I  'm  slated  to  stay  boss  of  this 
colony  —  grand  Poo  Bah  and  Mikado,  all  in  one. 
Understand  ?  You  mind  your  own  business,  and 
don't  go  to  interfering  with  me  any  more !  .  .  .  . 
Now,  if  you  Ve  stared  enough  at  the  lady's 
skirt  —  " 

The  threat  of  discovery  stung  the  girl  to  instant 
action.  With  almost  frantic  haste,  she  scrambled 
down  to  the  lower  branches,  and  sprang  to  the 
ground.  She  had  never  ventured  such  a  leap 
even  in  childhood.  She  struck  lightly  but  with 
out  proper  balance,  and  pitched  over  sideways. 
Her  hands  chanced  to  alight  upon  the  remnants 
of  leopard  skin.  Great  as  was  her  fear,  she 
stopped  to  gather  all  together  in  the  edge  of 
her  skirt  before  darting  up  the  cleft. 

At  the  baobab  she  turned  and  gazed  back  along 
the  cliff  edge.  Before  she  had  time  to  draw  a 
second  breath,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Blake's 
palm-leaf  hat,  near  the  crown  of  the  ladder  tree. 

"  O-o-h !  —  he  did  n't  see  me  !  "  she  murmured. 
Her  frantic  strength  vanished,  and  a  deathly 
sickness  came  upon  her.  She  felt  herself  going, 
and  sought  to  kneel  to  ease  the  fall. 

She  was  roused  from  the  swoon  by  Blake's 
resonant  shout:  "Hey,  Miss  Jenny!  where  are 

[167] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

you  ?  We  've  got  your  laundry  on  the  pole  in 
fine  shape !  " 

The  girl's  flaccid  limbs  grew  tense,  and  her 
body  quivered  with  a  shudder  of  dread  and  loath 
ing.  Yet  she  set  her  little  white  teeth,  and  forced 
herself  to  rise  and  go  out  to  face  the  men.  Both 
met  her  look  with  a  blank  stare  of  consternation. 

"  What  is  it,  Miss  Genevieve  I "  cried  Win- 
thrope.  "You're  white  as  chalk!" 

"It's  the  fever!"  growled  Blake.  "She's  in 
the  cold  stage.  Get  a  pot  on.  We  '11  —  " 

"  No,  no;  it's  not  that!  It's  only  —  I've 
been  frightened !  " 

"Frightened!" 

11  By  a  —  a  dreadful  beast ! " 

"  Beast ! "  repeated  Blake,  and  his  pale  eyes 
flashed  as  he  sprang  across  to  where  his  bow  and 
arrows  and  his  club  leaned  against  the  baobab. 
"  I  '11  have  no  beasts  nosing  around  my  door- 
yard  !  Must  be  that  skulking  lion  I  heard  last 
night.  I  '11  show  him ! "  He  caught  up  his 
weapons  and  stalked  off  down  the  cleft. 

"  By  Jove !  "  exclaimed  Winthrope  ;  "  the  man 
really  must  be  mad.  Call  him  back,  Miss  Gene 
vieve.  If  anything  should  happen  to  him  —  " 

"  If  only  there  might !  "  gasped  the  girl. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  I  " 

She  burst  into  a  hysterical  laugh.  "  Oh  !  oh ! 
[168] 


THE     MARK     OF    THE    BEAST 

it 's  such  a  joke  —  such  a  joke !  At  least  he 's 
not  a  hyena  —  oh,  no  ;  a  brave  beast !  Hear 
him  shout !  And  he  actually  thinks  it 's  a  lion ! 
But  it  is  n't  —  it 's  himself !  Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear ! 
what  shall  I  do!" 

"  Miss  Genevieve,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Be 
calm,  pray,  be  calm  !  " 

11  Calm  !  —  when  I  heard  what  he  said  ?  Yes ; 
I  heard  every  word !  In  the  top  of  the  tree  —  " 

"  In  the  tree  !  Heavens  !  Miss  —  er  —  Miss 
Genevieve ! "  stammered  Winthrope,  his  face 
paling.  "  Did  you  —  did  you  hear  all!" 

"Everything  —  everything  he  said!  What 
shall  I  do  1  I  am  so  frightened  !  What  shall 
I  do!" 

"  Everything  he  said!  "  echoed  Winthrope. 

"You  spoke  too  low  for  me  to  hear;  but  I'm 
sure  you  faced  him  like  a  gentleman  —  I  must 
believe  it  of  vou  —  " 

«/ 

Winthrope  drew  in  a  deep  breath.  "  Ah,  yes; 
I  did,  Miss  Genevieve  —  I  assure  you.  The  beast ! 
Yet  you  see  the  plight  I  am  in.  It  is  a  nasty 
muddle  —  indeed  it  is !  But  what  can  I  do  ? 
He  is  strong  as  a  gorilla.  Really,  there  is  only 
one  way  —  no  doubt  you  heard  him  taunt  me 
over  it.  I  assure  you  I  should  not  be  afraid  — 
but  it  would  be  so  horrid  —  so  cold-blooded.  As 
a  gentleman,  you  know  —  " 

[169] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  No ;  it  is  not  that !  "  broke  in  the  girl.  "  He 
is  right.  Neither  of  us  has  the  courage  —  even 
when  he  is  asleep." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Genevieve,  this  beast  instinct 
to  kill  —  " 

"  Yes ;  but  think  of  him.  If  he  is  a  beast,  he 
is  at  least  a  brave  one.  While  we  —  we  have  n't 
the  courage  of  rabbits.  I  thought  you  called 
yourself  an  English  gentleman.  Are  you  going 
to  stand  by,  and  not  lift  a  finger  ?  " 

"  Really,  now,  Miss  Genevieve,  to  murder  a 
man  —  " 

"  Self-defence  is  not  a  crime  —  self-preservation. 
If  you  have  a  spark  of  manhood  —  " 

"My  dear  —  " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  if  you  can't  do  anything, 
at  least  keep  still !  Oh,  I  'm  sure  I  shall  go  mad  ! 
If  only  I  had  been  drowned  !  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  to  be  sure.  But  really  now,  what 
you  ask  is  a  good  deal  for  a  man  to  risk.  The 
fellow  might  wake  up  and  murder  me  !  Should 
I  take  the  risk,  might  I  —  er  —  expect  some  mani 
festation  of  your  gratitude,  Miss  Genevieve  ?  " 

"  Of  course  !  of  course  !  I  should  always  —  " 

"  I  —  ah  —  refer  to  the  —  the  —  bestowal  of 
your  hand." 

"  My  hand  ?  I  —  Would  you  bargain  for 
my  esteem  ?  I  thought  you  a  gentleman !  " 

[1701 


THE     MARK     OF    THE     BEAST 

"To  be  sure  —  to  be  sure!  Who  says  I  am 
not  I  But  all  is  fair  in  love  and  war,  you  know. 
Your  choice  is  quite  free.  I  take  it,  you  will  not 
consider  his  —  er  —  proposals.  But  if  you  do 
not  wish  my  aid,  you  have  another  way  of 
escape  —  that  is  —  at  least  other  women  have 
done  it." 

The  girl  gazed  at  him,  her  eyes  dilating  with 
horror  as  she  realized  his  meaning. 

"  No,  no ;  not  that !  "  she  gasped.  "  I  want  to 
live  —  I  've  a  right  to  live  !  Why,  I  'm  only  just 
twenty-two  —  I  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  cautioned  Winthrope.  "  He 's  com 
ing  back.  Be  calm !  There  will  be  time  until  I 
get  over  this  vile  malaria.  It  may  be  that  he 
himself  will  have  the  fever." 

"  He  will  not  have  the  fever,"  replied  the  girl, 
in  a  hopeless  tone,  and  she  leaned  back  listlessly 
against  the  baobab,  as  Blake  swung  himself  up, 
frowning  and  sullen,  and  flung  his  weapons  from 
him. 

"  Bah !  "  he  grumbled,  "  I  told  you  that  brute 
was  a  sneak.  I  've  chased  clean  down  to  the 
pool  and  into  the  open,  and  not  a  smell  of  him. 
Must  have  hiked  off  into  the  tall  grass  the  minute 
he  heard  me." 

"  If  only  he  had  gone  off  for  good !  "  murmured 
Miss  Leslie. 

[171] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Maybe  he  has ;  though  you  never  can  count 
on  a  sneak.  Even  you  might  be  able  to  shoo 
him  off  next  time ;  but,  like  as  not,  he  'd  come 
along  when  we  were  all  out  calling,  and  clean 
out  our  commissary.  Guess  I  '11  set  to  and  run 
up  a  barricade  down  there  where  the  gully  is 
narrowest.  There  're  shoals  of  dead  thorn-brush 
to  the  right  of  the  pool." 

"Ah,  yes;  I  fancy  the  vultures  will  be  so 
vexed  when  they  find  your  hedge  in  the  way," 
remarked  Winthrope. 

"  My  !  how  smart  we  're  getting  !  "  retorted 
Blake.  "  Don't  worry,  though.  We  '11  stow  the 
stuff  in  Miss  Jenny's  boudoir,  and  I  guess  the 
birdies '11  be  polite  enough  to  keep  out." 

"  I  must  say,  Blake,  I  do  not  see  why  you 
should  wish  to  drag  us  away  from  here." 

"  There  're  lots  of  things  you  don't  see, 
Win,  me  b'y — jokes,  for  instance.  But  what 
could  you  expect  1  —  you  're  English.  Now, 
don't  get  mad.  Worst  thing  in  the  world  for 
malaria." 

"  One  would  fancy  you  could  see  that  I  am  not 
angry.  I  've  a  splitting  headache,  and  my  back 
hurts.  I  am  ill." 

Blake  looked  him  over  critically,  and  nodded. 
"That's  no  lie,  old  man.  You're  entitled  to  a 
hospital  check  all  right.  Miss  Jenny,  we'll 

[172] 


THE     MARK     OF     THE     BEAST 

appoint  you  chief  nurse.  Make  him  comfortable 
as  you  can,  and  give  him  hot  broth  whenever  he  '11 
take  it.  You  can  do  your  sewing  on  the  side. 
Whenever  you  need  help,  call  on  me.  I  'm  going 
to  begin  that  barricade." 


[173] 


CHAPTER  XIV 
FEVER  AND   FIRE  AND   FEAR 

BY  nightfall  Winthrope  was  tossing  and 
groaning  on  the  bed  of  leaves  which  Miss 
Leslie  had  heaped  beneath  his  canopy. 
Though  not  delirious,  his  high  temperature,  coup 
led  with  the  pains  which  racked  every  nerve  and 
bone  in  his  body,  rendered  him  light-headed.  He 
would  catch  himself  up  in  the  midst  of  some 
rambling  nonsense  to  inquire  anxiously  whether 
he  had  said  anything  silly  or  strange.  On  being 
reassured  upon  this,  he  would  relax  again,  and,  as 
likely  as  not,  break  into  a  babyish  wail  over  his 
aches  and  pains. 

Blake  shook  his  head  when  he  learned  that 
the  attack  had  not  been  preceded  by  a  chill. 

"Guess  he's  in  for  a  hot  time,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  more  'n  one  kind  of  malarial  fever. 
Some  are  a  whole  lot  like  typhus." 

"  Typhus  ?     What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Sort  of  rapid  fire,  double  action  typhoid.  Not 
that  I  think  Win 's  got  it  —  only  malaria.  What 
gets  me  is  that  we  've  only  been  here  these  few 

[174] 


FEVER    AND     FIRE    AND     FEAR 

days,  and  yet  it  looks  like  he 's  got  the  continu 
ous,  no-chill  kind." 

"  Then  you  think  he  will  be  very  ill?  " 

"  Well,  I  guess  he  '11  think  so.  It  ought  to  run 
out  in  a  week  or  ten  days,  though.  We  Ve  had 
good  water,  and  it  usually  takes  time  for  malaria 
to  soak  in  deep.  Now,  don't  worry,  Miss  Jenny. 
It'll  do  him  no  good,  and  you  a  lot  of  harm. 
Take  things  easy  as  you  can,  for  you've  got  to 
keep  up  your  strength.  If  you  don't,  you  '11  be 
down  yourself  before  Win  is  up." 

"Ill  while  he  is  helpless  and  unable  —  ?  Oh, 
no  ;  that  cannot  be  !  I  must  not  give  way  to  the 
fever  until  — 

"  Don't  worry.  You  ?11  likely  stave  it  off  for 
a  couple  of  weeks  or  so.  You  're  lively  yet,  and 
that 's  a  good  sign.  I  knew  Win  was  in  for  it 
when  he  began  to  grouch  and  loaf  and  do  the 
baby  act.  I  haven't  much  use  for  dudes  in  gen 
eral,  and  English  dudes  in  particular ;  but  I  '11 
admit  that,  while  Win 's  soft  enough  in  spots, 
he 's  not  all  mush  and  milk." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Blake." 

"  You  're  welcome.  I  couldn't  say  less,  seeing 
that  Win  can't  speak  for  himself.  Now  you 
tumble  in  and  get  a  good  sleep.  I  '11  go  on  as 
night  nurse,  and  work  at  the  barricade  same  time. 
You  're  not  going  to  do  any  night- nursing.  I  can 

[175] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

gather  the  thorn-brush  in  the  afternoons,  and  pile 
it  up  at  night." 

In  the  morning  Miss  Leslie  found  that  Blake 
had  built  a  substantial  canopy  over  the  invalid, 
in  place  of  the  first  ramshackle  structure. 

"It's  best  for  him  to  be  out  in  the  air,"  he  ex 
plained  ;  "  so  I  fixed  this  up  to  keep  off  the  dew. 
But  whenever  it  rains,  we  '11  have  to  tote  him 
inside." 

"  Ah,  yes  j  to  be  sure.  How  is  he  ? "  mur 
mured  the  girl. 

"  He 's  about  the  same  this  morning.  But  he 
got  a  little  sleep.  Keep  him  dosed  with  all  the 
hot  broth  he  '11  take.  And  say,  roust  me  out  at 
noon.  I  've  had  ray  breakfast.  Now  I  '11  have  a 
snooze.  So  long  !  " 

He  nodded,  and  crawled  under  the  shade  of 
the  nearest  bush,  too  drowsy  to  observe  her  look 
of  dismay. 

At  noon,  having  learned  that  Winthrope's  con 
dition  showed  little  change,  Blake  ate  a  hearty 
meal,  and  at  once  set  off  down  the  cleft.  He  did 
not  reappear  until  nightfall ;  though  at  intervals 
Miss  Leslie  had  heard  his  step  as  he  came  up  the 
ravine  with  his  loads  of  thorn-brush. 

This  course  of  action  became  the  routine  for  the 
following  ten  days.  It  was  broken  only  by  three 
incidents,  all  relating  to  the  important  matter 


FEVER  AND  FIRE  AND  FEAR 

of  food  supply.  Winthrope  had  soon  tired  of 
broth,  and  showed  such  an  insatiable  craving  for 
cocoanut  milk  that  the  stock  on  hand  had  become 
exhausted  within  the  week. 

The  day  after,  Blake  took  the  rope  ladder,  as 
he  called  the  tangle  of  knotted  creepers,  and  went 
off  towards  the  north  end  of  the  cleft.  When  he 
returned,  a  little  before  dark,  the  lower  part  of 
his  trousers  was  torn  to  shreds,  and  the  palms  of 
his  hands  were  blistered  and  raw ;  but  he  carried 
a  heavy  load  of  cocoanuts.  After  a  vain  attempt 
to  climb  the  giant  palms  on  the  far  side  of  the 
river,  he  had  found  another  grove  near  at  hand, 
in  the  little  plain,  and  had  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  tops  of  two  of  the  smaller  palms. 

Under  his  directions,  Miss  Leslie  clarified  a 
bowl  of  bird  fat  —  goose-grease,  Blake  called  it, 
—  and  dressed  his  hands.  Yet  even  with  the 
bandages  which  she  made  of  soft  inner  bark  and 
the  handkerchiefs,  he  was  unable  to  handle  the 
thorn-brush  the  following  day.  Unfortunately 
for  him,  he  was  not  content  to  sit  idle.  During 
the  night  he  had  cut  a  bamboo  fishing-pole  and 
lengthened  Miss  Leslie's  line  of  plaited  cocoanut- 
fibre  with  a  long  catgut  leader.  In  the  afternoon 
he  completed  his  outfit  with  a  hairpin  hook  and  a 
piece  of  half-dried  meat. 

He  was  back  an  hour  earlier  than  usual,  and  he 
12  [  177  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

brought  with  him  a  dozen  or  more  fair-sized  fish. 
His  mouth  was  watering  over  the  prospective 
feast,  and  Miss  Leslie  showed  herself  hardly  less 
eager  for  a  change  from  their  monotonous  diet. 
As  the  fish  were  already  dressed,  she  raked  up 
the  coals  and  quickly  contrived  a  grill  of  green 
bamboos. 

When  the  odor  of  the  broiling  fish  spread  about 
in  the  still  air,  even  Winthrope  sniffed  and  turned 
over,  while  Blake  watched  the  crisping  delicacies 
with  a  ravenous  look.  Unable  to  restrain  him 
self,  he  caught  up  the  smallest  fish,  half  cooked, 
and  bolted  it  down  with  such  haste  that  he  burnt 
his  mouth.  He  ran  over  to  the  spring  for  a 
drink,  and  Winthrope  cackled  derisively. 

Miss  Leslie  was  too  absorbed  in  her  cooking  to 
observe  the  result  of  Blake's  greediness.  She 
had  turned  the  fish  for  the  last  time,  and  was 
about  to  lift  them  off  the  fire,  when  Blake  came 
running  back,  and  sent  grill  and  all  flying  with  a 
violent  kick. 

"  Salt !  "  he  gasped — "  where 's  the  salt  I  I  'in 
poisoned  ! " 

"  Poisoned  !  " 

"  Poison  fish !  Don't  eat !  God  !  —  Where 's 
the  salt?" 

The  girl  stared  at  him.  His  agony  was  so 
great  that  beads  of  sweat  were  rolling  down  his 

[178] 


FEVER    AND     FIRE    AND     FEAR 

face.  He  writhed,  and  stretched  out  a  quivering 
hand  —  "  Salt,  quick !  —  warm  water  —  salt !  " 

"  But  there 's  none  left !  You  remember, 
yesterday  —  " 

"  God !  "  groaned  Blake,  and  for  a  moment  he 
sank  down,  overcome  by  a  racking  convulsion. 
Then  his  jaw  closed  like  a  bull-dog's,  and  grit 
ting  his  teeth  with  the  effort,  he  staggered  up  and 
rushed  off  down  the  cleft. 

"  Stop !  stop,  Mr.  Blake  !  Where  are  you 
going  ?  "  screamed  the  girl. 

She  started  to  run  after  him,  but  was  halted  by 
an  outburst  of  delirious  laughter.  Winthrope 
was  sitting  upright  and  waving  his  fever-blotched 
hands  —  "  Hi,  hi !  look  at  'im  run !  'E  's  got 
w'at  '11  do  for  'im !  Run,  you  swine ;  you  —  " 

There  followed  a  torrent  of  cockney  abuse  so 
foul  that  Miss  Leslie  blushed  scarlet  with  shame 
as  she  sought  to  quiet  him.  But  the  excitement 
had  so  heightened  his  fever  that  he  was  in  a 
raving  delirium.  It  was  close  upon  midnight 
before  his  temperature  fell,  and  he  sank  into  a 
death-like  torpor.  In  her  ignorance,  she  sup 
posed  that  he  had  fallen  asleep. 

Her  relief  was  short-lived,  for  soon  she  remem 
bered  Blake.  She  could  see  him  lying  beside  the 
pool  or  out  on  the  bare  plain,  his  resolute  eyes 
cold  and  glassy,  his  powerful  body  contorted 

[179] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

in  the  death  agony.  The  vision  filled  her  with 
dismay.  With  all  his  coarseness,  the  man  had 
showed  himself  so  resourceful,  so  indomitable, 
that  when  she  sought  to  dwell  upon  her  reasons 
to  fear  him,  she  found  herself  admiring  his  virile 
manliness.  He  might  be  a  brute,  but  he  did  not 
belong  among  the  jackals  and  hyenas.  Indeed,  as 
she  called  to  mind  his  strong  face  and  frank,  blunt 
speech  she  all  but  disbelieved  what  her  own  ears 
had  heard. 

And  anyway,  without  his  aid,  what  should  she 
do  ?  Winthrope  had  already  become  as  weak  as 
a  child.  The  emaciation  of  his  jaundiced  features 
was  a  mockery  of  their  former  plumpness.  Blake 
had  said  that  the  fever  might  run  on  for  another 
week,  and  that  even  if  Winthrope  recovered,  he 
would  probably  be  helpless  for  several  days 
besides. 

What  was  no  less  serious,  though  she  had 
concealed  the  fact  from  Blake,  she  herself  had 
been  troubled  the  past  week  with  the  depression 
and  lassitude  which  had  preceded  Winthrope's 
attack.  If  Blake  was  dead,  and  she  should  fall 
ill  before  Winthrope  recovered,  they  would  both 
die  from  lack  of  care.  And  if  they  did  not  die 
of  the  fever,  what  of  their  future,  here  on  this 
desolate  savage  coast? 

But  the  very  keenness  of  her  mental  anguish 
[180] 


FEVER    AND     FIRE    AND     FEAR 

so  exhausted  and  numbed  the  girl's  brain  that 
she  at  last  fell  into  a  heavy  sleep.  The  fire 
burned  low,  and  shadowy  forms  began  to  creep 
from  behind  the  bamboos  and  the  trees  and  rocks 
down  the  gorge.  There  was  no  sound ;  but 
greedy,  wolfish  eyes  gleamed  in  the  starlight. 

Only  the  day  before  Blake  had  told  Miss 
Leslie  to  store  the  last  rack  of  cured  meat  in 
side  the  baobab.  The  two  sleepers  lay  between 
the  fire  and  the  entrance  to  the  hollow.  Slowly 
the  embers  of  the  fire  died  away  into  gray  ashes, 
and  slowly  the  night  prowlers  drew  nearer.  The 
boldest  of  the  pack  crept  close  to  Miss  Leslie, 
and,  with  teeth  bared  and  back  bristling,  sniffed 
at  the  edge  of  her  skirt.  Whether  because  of  her 
heavy  breathing  or  the  odor  of  the  leopard  skin, 
the  beast  drew  away,  with  an  uneasy  whine. 

There  was  a  pause ;  then,  backed  by  three 
others,  the  leader  approached  Winthrope.  He 
was  still  lying  in  the  death-like  torpor,  and  he 
lacked  the  protection  which,  in  all  likelihood,  the 
leopard  skin  had  given  Miss  Leslie.  The  cow 
ardly  brutes  took  him  for  dead  or  dying.  They 
sniffed  at  him  from  head  to  foot,  and  then,  with 
a  ferocious  outburst  of  snarls  and  yells,  flung 
themselves  upon  him. 

Had  it  not  chanced  that  Winthrope  was  lying 
upon  his  side,  with  one  arm  thrown  up,  he  would 

[181] 


I 
INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

have  been  fatally  wounded  by  the  first  slashing 
bites  of  his  assailants.  The  two  which  sought 
to  tear  him  were  baffled  by  the  thick  folds  of 
Blake's  coat,  while  their  leader's  slash  at  the 
victim's  throat  was  barred  by  the  upraised  arm. 
With  a  savage  snap,  the  beast's  jaws  closed 
on  the  arm,  biting  through  to  the  bone.  At  the 
same  instant  the  fourth  jackal  tore  ravenously 
at  one  of  the  outstretched  legs. 

With  a  shriek  of  agony,  Winthrope  started 
up  from  his  torpor,  and  struck  out  frantically 
in  a  fury  of  pain  and  terror.  Startled  by  the 
violence  of  this  unexpected  resistance,  the  jack 
als  leaped  back  —  only  to  spring  in  again  as 
the  remainder  of  the  pack  made  a  rush  to  fore 
stall  them. 

Winthrope  was  staggering  to  his  feet,  when 
the  foremost  brute  leaped  upon  him.  He  fell 
heavily  against  one  of  the  main  supports  of  his 
bamboo  canopy,  and  the  entire  structure  came 
down  with  a  crash.  Two  of  the  jackals,  caught 
beneath  the  roof,  howled  with  fear  as  they  sought 
to  free  themselves.  The  others,  with  brute  dread 
of  an  unknown  danger,  drew  away,  snarling  and 
gnashing  their  teeth. 

Wakened  by  the  first  ferocious  yelps  of  Win- 
thrope's  assailants,  Miss  Leslie  had  started  up  and 
stared  about  in  the  darkness.  On  all  sides  she 

f  182  ] 


FEVER  AND  FIRE  AND  FEAR 

could  see  pairs  of  fiery  eyes  and  dim  forms  like 
the  phantom  creatures  of  a  nightmare.  Win- 
thrope's  shriek,  instead  of  spurring  her  to  action, 
only  confused  her  the  more  and  benumbed  her 
faculties.  She  thought  it  was  his  death  cry,  and 
stood  trembling,  transfixed  with  horror. 

Then  came  the  fall  of  the  canopy.  His  cries 
as  he  sought  to  throw  it  off  showed  that  he  was 
still  alive.  In  a  flash  her  bewilderment  vanished. 
The  stagnant  blood  surged  again  through  her 
arteries  in  a  fiery,  stimulating  torrent.  With  a 
cry,  to  which  primeval  instinct  lent  a  menacing 
note,  she  groped  her  way  to  the  fallen  canopy, 
and  stooped  to  lift  up  one  side. 

"  Quick  !  —  into  the  tree  !  "  she  called. 

Still  frantic  with  terror,  Winthrope  struggled 
to  his  feet.  She  thrust  him  towards  the  baobab, 
and  followed,  dragging  the  mass  of  interwoven 
bamboos.  Emboldened  by  the  retreat  of  their 
quarry,  the  snarling  pack  instantly  began  to  close 
in.  Fortunately  they  were  too  cowardly  to  rush 
at  once,  and  fear  spurred  their  intended  victims 
to  the  utmost  haste.  Groping  and  stumbling,  the 
two  felt  their  way  to  the  baobab,  and  Miss  Leslie 
pushed  Winthrope  headlong  through  the  entrance. 
As  he  fell,  she  turned  to  face  the  pack. 

The  foremost  beasts  were  at  the  rear  edge  of 
the  bamboo  framework,  their  eyes  close  to  the 

[183] 


ground.  Instinct  told  her  that  they  were  crouch 
ing  to  leap.  With  desperate  strength  she  caught 
up  the  canopy  before  her  like  a  great  shield,  and 
drew  it  in  after  her  until  the  ends  of  the  cross-bars 
were  wedged  fast  against  the  sides  of  the  opening. 
Though  it  seemed  so  firm,  she  clung  to  it  with  a 
convulsive  grasp  as  she  felt  the  pack  leaders  fling 
themselves  against  the  outer  side. 

But  Blake  had  lashed  the  bamboos  securely 
tog-ether,  and  none  of  the  beasts  was  heavy 
enough  to  snap  the  supple  bars.  Finding  that 
they  could  not  break  down  the  barrier,  they 
began  to  scratch  and  tear  at  the  thatch  which 
covered  the  frame.  Soon  a  pair  of  lean  jaws 
thrust  in  and  snapped  at  the  girl's  skirt.  She 
sprang  back,  with  a  cry:  "Help!  Quick,  Mr. 
Wmthrope  !  They  're  breaking  through  !  " 

Winthrope  made  no  response.  She  stooped, 
and  found  him  lying  inert  where  he  had  fallen. 
She  had  only  herself  to  depend  upon.  A  screen 
of  sharp  sticks  which  she  had  made  for  the  en 
trance  was  leaning  against  the  inner  wall,  within 
easy  reach.  To  grasp  it  and  thrust  it  against  the 
other  framework  was  the  work  of  an  instant. 

Still  she  trembled,  for  the  eager  beasts  had 
ripped  the  thatch  from  the  canopy,  and  their  in- 
thrust  jaws  made  short  work  of  the  few  leaves 
on  her  screen.  Unaware  that  even  a  lion  or  a 

[184] 


FEVER  AND  FIRE  AND  FEAR 

tiger  is  quickly  discouraged  by  the  knife-like 
splinters  of  broken  bamboo,  she  expected  every 
moment  that  the  jackals  would  bite  their  way 
through  her  frail  barrier. 

She  remembered  the  stakes  given  her  by  Win- 
thrope,  hidden  under  the  leaves  and  grass  of  her 
bed.  She  groped  her  way  across  the  hollow, 
and  uncovered  one  of  the  stakes.  In  her  haste 
she  cut  her  hand  on  its  razor-like  edge.  All  un 
heeding,  she  sprang  back  towards  the  entrance. 
She  was  none  too  soon.  One  of  the  smaller 
jackals  had  forced  its  head  and  one  leg  between 
the  bars,  and  was  struggling  to  enlarge  the 
opening. 

Fearful  that  the  whole  pack  was  about  to  burst 
in  upon  her,  the  girl  grasped  the  bamboo  stake  in 
both  hands,  and  began  stabbing  and  lunging  at  the 
beast  with  all  her  strength.  The  jackal  squirmed 
and  snarled  and  snapped  viciously.  But  the  girl 
was  now  frantic.  She  pressed  nearer,  and  though 
the  white  teeth  grazed  her  wrist,  she  drove  home 
a  thrust  that  changed  the  beast's  snarls  into  a  howl 
of  pain.  Before  she  could  strike  again,  it  had 
struggled  back  out  of  the  hole,  beyond  reach. 

Tense  and  panting  with  excitement,  she  leaned 
forward,  ready  to  stab  at  the  next  beast.  None 
appeared,  and  presently  she  became  aware  that  the 
pack  had  been  daunted  by  the  experience  of  their 

[185] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

unlucky  fellow.  Their  snarls  and  yells  had  sub 
sided  to  whines,  which  seemed  to  be  coming  from  a 
greater  distance.  Still  she  waited,  with  the  bam 
boo  stake  upraised  ready  to  strike,  every  nerve 
and  muscle  of  her  body  tense  with  the  strain. 

So  great  was  the  stress  of  her  fear  and  excite 
ment  that  she  had  not  heeded  the  first  gray 
lessening  of  the  night.  But  now  the  glorious 
tropical  dawn  came  streaming  out  of  the  east 
in  all  its  red  effulgence.  Above  and  through  the 
bamboo  barrier  glowed  a  light  such  as  might  have 
come  from  a  great  fire  on  the  cliff  top.  Still 
tense  and  immovable,  the  girl  stared  out  up  the 
cleft.  There  was  not  a  jackal  in  sight.  She 
leaned  forward  and  peered  around,  unable  to  be 
lieve  such  good  fortune.  But  the  night  prowlers 
had  slunk  off  in  the  first  gray  dawn. 

The  girl  drew  in  a  deep,  shuddering  sigh,  and 
sank  back.  Her  hand  struck  against  Winthrope's 
foot.  She  turned  about  quickly  and  looked  at 
him.  He  was  lying  upon  his  face.  She  hastened 
to  turn  him  upon  his  side,  and  to  feel  his  fore 
head.  It  was  cool  and  moist.  He  was  fast  asleep 
and  drenched  with  sweat.  The  great  shock  of  his 
pain  and  fear  and  excitement  had  broken  his  fever. 

With  the  relief  and  joy  of  this  discovery,  the 
girl  completely  relaxed.  Not  observing  Win 
thrope's  wounds,  which  had  bled  little,  she  sought 

[186] 


FEVER    AND     FIRE    AND     FEAR 

to  force  a  way  out  through  the  entrance.  It  was 
by  no  means  an  easy  task  to  free  the  wedged 
framework,  and  when,  after  much  pulling  and 
pushing,  she  at  last  tore  the  mass  loose,  she 
found  herself  perspiring  no  less  freely  than 
Winthrope. 

She  was  far  too  preoccupied,  however,  to  con 
sider  what  this  might  mean.  Her  first  thought 
was  of  the  fire.  She  ran  to  her  rude  stone  fire 
place  and  raked  over  the  ashes.  They  were  still 
warm,  but  there  was  not  a  live  ember  among 
them.  Yet  she  realized  that  Winthrope  must 
have  hot  food  when  he  wakened,  and  Blake  had 
carried  with  him  the  magnifying  glass.  For  a 
little  she  stood  hesitating.  But  the  defeat  of  the 
jackals  had  given  her  courage  and  resolution  such 
as  she  had  never  before  known.  She  returned 
into  the  cave,  and  chose  the  sharpest  of  her 
stakes.  Having  made  certain  that  Winthrope  was 
still  asleep,  she  set  off  boldly  down  the  cleft. 

At  the  first  turn  she  came  upon  Blake's  thorn 
barricade.  It  stretched  across  the  narrowest  part 
of  the  cleft  in  an  impenetrable  wall,  twelve  feet 
high.  Only  in  the  centre  was  a  gap,  which  could 
have  been  filled  by  Blake  in  less  than  two  hours' 
work.  The  girl's  eyes  brightened.  She  herself 
could  gather  the  thorn-brush  and  fill  the  gap  be 
fore  night.  They  no  longer  need  fear  the  jackals 

[187] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

or  even  the  larger  beasts  of  prey.     None  the  less, 
they  must  have  fire. 

Spurred  on  by  the  thought,  she  was  about  to 
spring  through  the  barricade  when  she  heard  the 
tread  of  feet  on  the  path  beyond.  She  crouched 
down,  and  peered  through  the  tangle  of  brush  in 
the  edge  of  the  gap.  Less  than  ten  paces  away 
Blake  was  plodding  heavily  up  the  trail.  She 
stepped  out  before  him. 

"  You  —  you  !     Are  you  alive  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"  'Live  ?  You  bet  your  boots  !  "  came  back  the 
grim  response.  "You  bet  I'm  alive  —  though 
I  had  to  go  Jonah  one  better  to  do  it.  The  whale 
heaved  him  up ;  I  heaved  up  the  whale  —  and  it 
took  about  a  barrel  of  sea-water  to  do  it." 

"  Sea-water! " 

"  Sure  ....  I  tumbled  over  twice  on  the  way. 
But  I  made  the  beach.  Lord  !  how  I  pumped  in 
the  briny  deep  !  Guess  I  won't  go  into  details  — 
but  if  you  think  you  know  anything  about  sea 
sickness  —  Whew  f  Lucky  for  yours  truly,  the 
tide  was  just  starting  out,  and  the  wind  off  shore. 
I  'd  fallen  in  the  water,  and  the  Jonah  business 
laid  me  out  cold.  Didn't  know  anything  until 
the  tide  came  up  again  and  soused  me." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  're  not  dead.  But  how 
you  must  have  suffered  !  You  are  still  white,  and 
your  face  is  all  creased." 

[188] 


FEVER  AND  FIRE  AND  FEAR 

Blake  attempted  a  careless  laugh.  "  Don't  worry 
about  me.  I  'm  here,  O.  K.,  all  that 's  left,  —  a 
little  wobbly  on  my  pins,  but  hungry  as  a  shark. 
But  say,  what 's  up  with  you  ?  You  're  sweat 
ing  like  a  —  Good  thing,  though.  It  '11  stave  off 
your  spell  of  fever  a  while.  How  'd  you  happen 
to  be  coining  down  here  so  early  ? " 

"  I  was  starting  to  find  you." 

"Me!" 

"  Not  you  —  that  is,  I  thought  you  were  dead. 
I  was  going  to  make  certain,  and  to  —  to  get  the 
burning-glass." 

"  Uin-m.    I  see.     Let  the  fire  go  out,  eh  1 " 

11  Do  not  blame  me,  Mr.  Blake !  I  was  so  ill 
and  worn  out,  and  I  've  paid  for  it  twice  over, 
really  I  have.  Did  n't  those  awful  beasts  attack 
you?" 

"  Beasts  ?     How 's  that  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  have  heard  them !  The 
horrid  things  tried  to  kill  us  !  "  she  cried,  and  she 
poured  out  a  half  incoherent  account  of  all  that 
had  happened  since  he  left. 

Blake  listened  intently,  his  jaw  thrust  out,  his 
eyes  glowing  upon  her  with  a  look  which  she  had 
never  before  seen  in  any  man's  eyes.  But  his  first 
comment  had  nothing  to  do  with  her  conduct. 

"  How 's  that  ?  —  sony  Win  got  rousted  out  of 
his  nice  little  snooze  —  Snooze !  Why,  don't 

[189] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

you  know,  we  'd  been  all  alone  in  our  glory  by 
to-night  if  it  hadn't  been  for  those  brutes.  He 
was  in  the  stupor,  and  that  would  have  been  the 
end  of  him  if  the  beasts  had  n't  stirred  him  up 
so  lively.  I  've  heard  of  such  a  thing  before,  but 
I  always  thought  it  was  a  fake.  Here  you  are 
sweating,  too." 

"  I  feel  much  better  than  yesterday.  I  did  not 
tell  you,  but  I  have  felt  ill  for  nearly  a  week." 

"  'Fraid  to  tell,  eh?  —  and  you  were  so  scared 
over  the  beasts  —  Scared  !  By  Jiniiny,  you  've 
got  grit,  little  woman !  There 's  two  kinds  of 
scaredness;  you've  got  the  Stonewall  Jackson 
kind.  If  anybody  asks  you,  just  refer  them  to 
Tommy  Blake." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Blake.  But  should  we  not 
hasten  back  now  to  prepare  something  for  Mr. 
Winthrope  ?  " 

"  Ditto  for  yours  truly.  I  'm  like  that  sepul 
chre  you  read  about  —  white  outside,  and  within 
nothing  but  bare  bones  and  emptiness." 


[190] 


CHAPTER  XV 
WITH  BOW  AND   CLUB 

THE  fire  was  soon  re-lit,  and  a  pot  of  meat 
set  on   to  stew.     It   had   ample  time  to 
simmer.     Winthrope  was   wrapped   in  a 
life-giving  sleep,  out  of  which  he  did  not  waken 
until  evening,  while  Blake,   unable  to   wait   for 
the  pot  to  boil,  and  nauseated  by  the  fishy  odor 
of  the  dried  seafowl,  hunted  out  the  jerked  leop 
ard  meat,  and  having  devoured  enough  to  satisfy 
a  native,  fell  asleep  under  a  bush. 

The  sun  was  half  down  the  sky  when  he  sat 
up  and  looked  around,  wide  awake  the  moment 
he  opened  his  eyes.  Miss  Leslie  was  quietly 
placing  an  armful  of  sticks  on  the  fuel  heap 
beside  the  baobab. 

"  Hello,  Miss  Jenny !  Hard  at  it,  I  see,"  he 
called  cheerfully. 

"Hush!"  she  cautioned.  "Mr.  Winthrope  is 
still  asleep." 

"  Good  thing  for  him.  He  '11  need  all  of  that 
he  can  get." 

"  Then  you  think  —  ?" 

[191] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"Well,  between  you  and  me,  I  don't  believe 
Win  was  built  for  the  tropics.  This  fever  of  his, 
coming  on  so  soon,  would  n't  have  hit  nine  men 
in  ten  half  so  hard.  He 's  bound  to  have  another 
spell  in  a  month  or  two,  and  —  " 

"  But  cannot  we  possibly  get  away  from  here 
before  then !  Is  there  no  way  ?  Surely,  you 
are  so  resourceful  —  " 

"  Nothing  doing,  Miss  Jenny  !  Give  me  tools, 
and  I  'd  engage  to  turn  out  a  seagoing  boat.  But 
as  it  is,  the  only  thing  I  could  do  would  be  to 
fire-burn  a  log.  That  would  take  two  or  three 
months,  and  in  the  end  we  'd  have  a  lop-sided 
canoe  that  'd  live  about  half  a  second  in  one  of 
these  tropic  squalls." 

"  Do  not  the  natives  sail  in  canoes  ?  " 

"  Maybe  they  do  —  and  they  make  fire  by 
rubbing  sticks.  We  don't." 

"  But  what  can  we  do  I " 

"  Take  our  medicine,  and  wait  for  a  ship  to 
show  up." 

"  But  we  have  no  medicine." 

"Have  no —  Say,  Miss  Jenny,  you  really 
ought  to  have  stayed  home  from  boarding-school 
and  England  long  enough  to  learn  your  own 
language.  I  meant,  we've  got  to  take  what's 
coming  to  us,  without  laying  down  or  grouching. 
Both  are  the  worst  thing  out  for  malaria." 

[  192] 


WITH     BOW    AND     CLUB 

"  You  mean  that  we  must  resign  ourselves  to 
this  intolerable  situation  —  that  we  must  calmly 
sit  here  and  wait  until  the  fever  —  " 

"No;  I'll  take  care  we  don't  sit  around  very 
much.  We  '11  go  on  the  hike,  soon  as  Win  can 
wobble.  Which  reminds  me,  I  've  got  a  little 
hike  on  hand  now.  I  'm  going  to  close  up  that 
barricade  before  dark.  Me  for  a  quiet  night !  " 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  took  his  weap 
ons,  and  swung  briskly  away  down  the  cleft. 

He  returned  a  few  minutes  before  sunset,  with 
what  appeared  to  be  a  large  fur  bag  upon  his  back. 
Miss  Leslie  was  pouring  a  bowl  of  broth  from  the 
stew-pot,  and  did  not  notice  him  until  he  sang 
out  to  her :  "  Hey,  Miss  Jenny,  spill  over  that 
stuff !  No  more  of  that  in  ours ! " 

' '  It 's  for  Mr.  Winthrope.  He  has  just  wakened, " 
she  replied,  still  intent  on  her  pouring. 

"  And  you  'd  kill  him  with  that  slop  !  Heave 
it  over.  He's  going  to  have  beef  juice." 

"Oh!  what's  that  on  your  back?  You've 
killed  an  antelope  !  " 

"  Sure !  Bushbuck,  I  guess  they  call  him. 
Sneaked  up  when  he  was  drinking,  and  stuck  an 
arrow  into  his  side.  He  jumped  off  a  little  way, 
and  turned  to  see  what'd  bit  him.  I  hauled  off 
and  put  the  second  arrow  right  through  his  eye, 
into  his  brain.  Neatest  thing  you  ever  saw." 
13  [  193  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  You  surely  are  becoming  a  splendid  archer !  " 

"  Yes ;  Jim  dandy  !  I  could  do  it  again  about 
once  in  ten  thousand  shots.  All  the  same,  I  Ve 
raked  in  this  peacherino.  Trot  out  your  grill 
and  we  '11  have  something  fit  to  eat." 

"  You  spoke  of  beef  juice." 

"  I  Ve  a  dozen  steaks  ready  to  broil.  Slap  'em 
on  the  fire,  and  I  '11  squeeze  out  enough  juice 
with  my  fist  to  do  Win  for  to-night." 

He  made  good  his  assertion,  using  several  of 
the  steaks,  which,  having  lost  less  than  half  their 
juices  in  the  process,  were  eaten  with  great  relish 
by  Miss  Leslie  and  himself. 

Winthrope,  after  drinking  the  stimulating  beef 
juice  and  a  quantity  of  hot  water,  turned  over 
and  fell  asleep  again  while  Blake  was  dressing 
his  wounds.  None  of  these  was  serious  of  itself; 
but  Blake  knew  the  danger  of  infection  in  the 
tropics,  and  carefully  washed  out  the  gashes 
before  applying  the  tallow  salve  which  Miss 
Leslie  had  tried  out  from  the  antelope  fat. 

The  dressing  was  completed  by  torchlight. 
Blake  then  rolled  the  sleeper  into  a  comfortable 
position,  took  the  torch  from  Miss  Leslie,  and 
left  the  cave,  pausing  at  the  entrance  to  mutter 
a  gruff  good-night.  The  girl  murmured  a  re 
sponse,  but  watched  him  anxiously  as  he  passed 
out.  A  step  beyond  the  entrance  he  paused  and 

[194] 


WITH     BOW     AND     CLUB 

turned  again.  In  the  red  glare  of  the  torch,  his 
face  took  on  an  expression  that  filled  her  with 
fright.  Shrouded  by  the  gloom  of  the  hollow, 
she  drew  back  to  her  bed,  and  without  turning 
her  eyes  away  from  him,  groped  for  one  of  her 
bamboo  stakes. 

But  before  she  could  arm  herself,  she  saw  Blake 
stoop  over  and  grasp  with  his  free  hand  the  mass 
of  interwoven  bamboos.  He  straightened  himself, 
and  the  framework  swung  lightly  up  and  over, 
until  it  stood  on  end  across  the  cave  entrance. 
The  girl  stole  around  and  peered  out  at  him.  He 
had  spread  open  the  antelope  skin,  and  was  begin 
ning  to  slice  the  meat  for  drying.  Though  his 
forehead  was  furrowed,  his  expression  was  by 
no  means  sinister.  Relieved  at  the  thought  that 
the  light  must  have  deceived  her,  she  returned  to 
her  bed  and  was  soon  sleeping  as  soundly  as 
Winthrope. 

Blake  strung  the  greater  part  of  the  meat  on 
the  drying  racks,  built  a  smudge  fire  beneath,  and 
stretched  the  antelope  skin  on  a  frame.  This 
done,  he  took  his  club  and  a  small  piece  of  bloody 
meat,  and  walked  stealthily  down  the  cleft  to  the 
barricade.  Quiet  as  was  his  approach,  it  was  met 
by  a  warning  yelp  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
thorny  wall,  and  he  could  hear  the  scurry  of 
fleeing  animals. 

[195] 


He  kept  on  until  the  barricade  loomed  up  be 
fore  him  in  the  starlight.  From  cliff  to  cliff  the 
wall  now  stretched  across  the  gorge  without  hole 
or  gap.  But  Blake  grasped  the  trunk  of  a  young 
date-palm  which  projected  from  the  barricade 
near  the  bottom,  and  pushed  it  out.  The  dis 
placement  of  the  spiky  fronds  disclosed  the  low 
passage  which  he  had  made  in  the  centre  of  the 
barricade.  He  placed  the  piece  of  meat  on  one 
side,  two  or  three  feet  from  the  hole,  and  squatted 
down  across  from  it,  with  his  club  balanced  on 
his  shoulder. 

Half  an  hour  passed  —  an  hour ;  and  still  he 
waited,  silent  and  motionless  as  a  statue.  At  last 
stealthy  footsteps  sounded  on  the  outer  side  of 
the  thorn  wall,  and  an  animal  began  to  creep 
through  the  wall,  sniffing  for  the  bait.  Blake 
waited  with  the  immobility  of  an  Eskimo.  The 
delay  was  brief. 

With  a  boldness  for  which  Blake  had  not  been 
prepared,  the  beast  leaped  through  and  seized  the 
meat.  Even  in  the  dim  light,  Blake  could  see 
that  he  had  lured  an  animal  larger  than  any 
jackal.  But  this  only  served  to  lend  greater  force 
to  his  blow.  As  he  struck,  lie  leaped  to  his  feet. 
The  brute  fell  as  though  struck  by  lightning 
and  lay  still. 

Blake  prodded  the  inert  form  warily;  then 
[196] 


WITH     BOW     AND     CLUB 

knelt  and  passed  his  hands  over  it.  The  beast 
had  whirled  about  just  in  time  to  meet  the  de 
scending  club,  and  the  blow  had  crushed  in  its 
skull.  Chuckling  at  the  success  of  his  ruse,  he 
drew  the  palm  back  into  the  opening,  and  swung 
his  prize  over  his  shoulder.  When  he  came  to 
the  fire,  a  glance  showed  him  that  he  had  killed 
a  full-grown  spotted  hyena. 

In  the  morning,  when  Miss  Leslie  appeared, 
there  were  two  hides  stretched  on  bamboo  frames, 
and  the  air  was  dark  with  vultures  streaming 
down  into  the  cleft  near  the  barricade.  Blake 
was  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  just,  and  did  not 
waken  until  she  had  built  the  fire  and  begun  to 
broil  the  steaks  which  he  had  saved. 

Again  they  had  a  feast  of  the  fresh  antelope 
meat.  But  with  repletion  came  more  of  fastidious 
ness,  and  Blake  agreed  with  Miss  Leslie  when  she 
remarked  that  salt  would  have  added  to  the  flavor. 
He  set  off  presently,  and  spent  half  a  day  on  the 
talus  of  the  headland,  gathering  salt  from  the  rock 
crannies. 

For  the  next  three  days  he  left  the  cleft  only 
to  gather  eggs.  The  greater  part  of  his  time  was 
spent  in  tanning  the  hyena  and  antelope  skins. 
Meantime  Miss  Leslie  continued  to  nurse  Win- 
thrope  and  to  gather  firewood.  Under  Blake's 
directions,  she  also  purified  the  salt  by  dissolving 

[197] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

it  in  a  pot  of  water,  and  allowing  the  dirt  to  settle, 
when  the  clarified  solution  was  poured  off  and 
evaporated  over  the  fire  in  one  of  the  earthenware 
pans. 

At  first  Winthrope  had  been  too  weak  to  sit 
up.  But  treated  to  a  liberal  diet  of  antelope 
broth,  raw  eggs,  hot  water,  and  cocoanut  milk,  he 
gained  strength  faster  than  Blake  had  expected. 
On  the  fourth  day  Blake  set  him  to  work  on  the 
final  rubbing  of  the  new  skins;  on  the  fifth,  he 
ordered  him  to  go  for  eggs. 

Much  to  Miss  Leslie's  surprise,  Winthrope 
started  off  without  a  word  of  protest.  All  his 
peevish  irritability  and  childishness  had  gone  with 
the  fever,  and  the  girl  was  gratified  to  see  the 
quiet  manner  in  which  he  set  about  a  task  which 
seemed  an  imposition  upon  his  half-regained 
strength.  But  the  very  motive  which,  seemingly, 
prevented  him  from  protesting,  impelled  her  to 
speak  for  him. 

"  Mr.  Blake  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  Mr.  Winthrope 
is  going  off  without  a  word ;  but  I  can't  endure 
it !  You  have  no  right  to  send  him  on  such  an 
errand.  It  will  kill  him !  " 

Blake  met  her  indignant  look  with  a  sober  stare. 

"  What  if  it  does?"  he  said.  "  Better  for  him 
to  die  in  the  gallant  service  of  his  fellows,  than  to 
sit  here  and  rot.  Eh,  Win  ?  " 

[198] 


WITH     BOW    AND     CLUB 

"Do  not  trouble  yourself,  Miss  Genevieve.  I 
hope  I  shall  pull  through  all  right.  If  not  —  " 

"  No,  you  shall  not !     I  '11  go  myself !  " 

"  See  here,  Miss  Leslie,"  said  Blake,  somewhat 
sternly ;  "  who 's  got  the  responsibility  of  keeping 
you  two  alive  for  the  next  month  or  so  ?  I  've 
been  in  the  tropics  before,  and  I  know  something 
of  the  way  people  have  to  live  to  get  out  again. 
I  'm  trying  to  do  my  best,  and  I  tell  you  straight, 
if  you  won't  mind  me,  I  'm  going  to  make  you, 
no  matter  how  much  it  hurts  your  feelings.  You 
see  how  nice  and  meek  Win  takes  his  orders.  I 
explained  matters  to  him  last  night —  " 

"  I  assure  you,  Blake,  you  shall  have  no  cause 
for  complaint  as  to  my  conduct,"  muttered  Win- 
thrope.  "  I  should  like  to  observe,  however,  that 
in  speaking  to  Miss  Leslie  —  " 

"  There  you  are  again,  with  your  everlasting 
talk.  Cut  it  out,  and  get  busy.  To-morrow  we 
all  go  on  a  hike  to  the  river." 

As  Winthrope  started  off,  Blake  turned  to  Miss 
Leslie,  with  a  good-natured  grin. 

"You  see,  it's  this  way,  Miss  Jenny  — "  he 
began.  He  caught  her  look  of  disdain,  and  his 
face  darkened.  "  Mad,  eh  ?  So  that 's  the 
racket ! " 

"  Mr.  Blake,  I  will  not  have  you  talk  to  me  in 
that  way.  Mr.  Winthrope  is  a  gentleman,  but 

[199] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

nothing  more  to  me  than  a  friend  such  as  any 
young  woman  —  " 

"  That  settles  it !  I  '11  take  your  word  for  it, 
Miss  Jenny,"  broke  in  Blake,  and  springing  up, 
he  set  about  his  work,  whistling. 

The  girl  gazed  at  his  broad  back  and  erect  head, 
uncertain  whether  she  should  feel  relieved  or 
anxious.  The  more  she  thought  the  matter  over, 
the  more  uncertain  she  became,  and  the  more  she 
wondered  at  her  uncertainty.  Could  it  be  possible 
that  she  was  becoming  interested  in  a  man  who, 
if  her  ears  had  not  deceived  her  —  But  no !  That 
could  not  be  possible ! 

Yet  what  a  ring  there  was  to  his  voice  !  —  so 
clear  and  tonic  after  Winthrope's  precise,  modu 
lated  drawl.  And  her  countryman's  firmness ! 
He  could  be  rude  if  need  be ;  but  he  would  make 
her  do  what  he  thought  was  best  for  her  health. 
Was  it  not  possible  that  she  had  misunderstood 
his  words  on  the  cliff,  and  so  misjudged  —  wronged 
—  him  1  —  that  Winthrope,  so  eager  to  stipulate  for 
her  hand  —  But  then  Winthrope  had  more  than 
confirmed  her  dreadful  conclusions  taken  from 
Blake's  words,  and  Winthrope  was  an  English 
gentleman.  It  could  not  be  possible  that  an 
English  gentleman  — 

She  ended  in  a  state  of  utter  bewilderment 

[  200] 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  SAVAGE  MANIFEST 

AWinthrope  had  succeeded  in  dragging  him 
self  to  and  from  the  headland  without  a 
collapse,  the  following  morning,  as  soon  as 
the  dew  was  dry,  Blake  called  out  all  hands  for  the 
expedition.     He  was  in  the  best  of  humors,  and 
showed  unexpected  consideration  by  presenting 
Winthrope  with  a  cane,  which  he  had  cut   and 
trimmed  during  the  night. 

Having  sent  Miss  Leslie  to  fill  the  whiskey  flask 
\vith  spring  water,  he  dropped  three  cocoanut- 
shell  bowls,  a  piece  of  meat  and  a  lump  of  salt 
into  one  of  the  earthenware  pots,  and  slung  all 
over  his  shoulder  in  the  antelope  skin.  With  his 
bow  hung  over  the  other  shoulder,  knife  and  ar 
rows  in  his  belt,  and  his  big  club  in  hand,  he 
looked  ready  for  any  contingency. 

"  We  '11  hit  first  for  the  mouth  of  the  river," 
he  said.  "  I  'm  going  on  ahead.  If  I  'm  not  in 
sight  when  you  come  up,  pick  a  tree  where  the 
ground  is  dry,  and  wait." 

"  But  I  say,  Blake,"  replied  Winthrope,  "  I  see 
animals  over  in  the  coppices,  and  you  should 
know  that  I  am  physically  unable  — " 

[201] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Nothing  but  antelope/'  interrupted  Blake. 
"  I  've  seen  them  enough  now  to  know  them  twice 
as  far  off.  And  you  can  bet  on  it  they'd  not 
be  there  if  any  dangerous  beast  was  in  smelling 
distance." 

"  That  is  so  clever  of  you,  Mr.  Blake,"  re 
marked  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Simple  enough  when  you  happen  to  think 
of  it,  "  responded  Blake.  "  Yes ;  the  only  thing 
you  've  got  to  look  out  for  's  the  ticks  in  the  grass. 
They  '11  keep  you  interested.  They  bit  me  up  in 
great  shape." 

He  scowled  at  the  recollection,  nodded  by 
way  of  emphasis,  and  was  off  like  a  shot.  The 
edge  of  the  plain  beneath  the  cliff  was  strewn 
with  rocks,  among  which,  even  with  Miss  Leslie's 
help,  Winthrope  could  pick  his  way  but  slowly. 
Before  they  were  clear  of  the  rough  ground,  they 
saw  Blake  disappear  among  the  mangroves. 

The  ticks  proved  less  annoying  than  they  had 
apprehended  after  Blake's  warning.  But  when 
they  approached  the  mouth  of  the  river,  they 
were  alarmed  to  hear,  above  the  roar  of  the  surf, 
loud  snorting,  such  as  could  only  be  made  by 
large  animals.  Fearful  lest  Blake  had  roused  and 
angered  some  forest  beast,  they  veered  to  the 
right,  and  ran  to  hide  behind  a  clump  of  thorns. 
Winthrope  sank  down  exhausted  the  moment 

[  202] 


THE     SAVAGE     MANIFEST 

they  reached  cover ;  but  Miss  Leslie  crept  to  the 
far  end  of  the  thicket  and  peered  around. 

"Oh,  look  here!"  she  cried.  "It's  a  whole 
herd  of  elephants  trying  to  cross  the  river  mouth 
where  we  did,  and  they  're  being  drowned,  poor 
things ! " 

"  Elephants  ? "  panted  Winthrope,  and  he 
dragged  himself  forward  beside  her.  "  Why,  so 
there  are ;  quite  a  drove  of  the  beasts.  Yet,  I 
must  say,  they  appear  smaller  —  ah,  yes ;  see 
their  heads.  They  must  be  the  hippos  Blake 
saw." 

"  Those  ugly  creatures'?  I  once  saw  some  at 
the  zoo.  Just  the  same,  they  will  be  drowned. 
Some  are  right  in  the  surf ! " 

"  I  can't  say,  I  'm  sure,  Miss  Genevieve,  but  I 
have  an  idea  that  the  beasts  are  quite  at  home  in 
the  water.  I  fancy  they  enjoy  surf  bathing  as 
keenly  as  ourselves." 

"I  do  believe  you  are  right.  There  is  one 
going  in  from  the  quiet  water.  But  look  at 
those  funny  little  ones  on  the  backs  of  the 
others !  " 

"  Must  be  the  baby  hippos,"  replied  Winthrope, 
indifferently.  "  If  you  please,  I  '11  take  a  pull  at 
the  flask.  I  am  very  dry." 

When  he  had  half  emptied  the  flask,  he 
stretched  out  in  the  shade  to  doze.  But  Miss 

[  203  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Leslie  continued  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
snorting  hippos,  amused  by  the  ponderous  antics 
of  the  grown  ones  in  the  surf,  and  the  comic 
appearance  of  the  barrel-like  infants  as  they 
mounted  the  backs  of  their  obese  mothers. 

Presently  Blake  came  out  from  among  the 
mangroves,  and  walked  across  to  the  beach,  a 
few  yards  away  from  the  huge  bathers.  To  all 
appearances,  they  paid  as  little  attention  to  him 
as  he  to  them.  Miss  Leslie  glanced  about  at 
Winthrope.  He  was  fast  asleep.  She  waited 
a  few  moments  to  see  if  the  hippopotami  would 
attack  Blake.  They  continued  to  ignore  him, 
and  gaining  courage  from  their  indifference,  she 
stepped  out  from  behind  the  thicket,  and  ad 
vanced  to  where  Blake  was  crouched  on  the 
beach.  When  she  came  up,  she  saw  beside  him 
a  heap  of  oysters,  which  he  was  opening  in  rapid 
succession. 

"  Hello !  You  're  just  in  time  to  help,"  he 
called.  "Where's  Win?" 

"  Asleep  behind  those  bushes." 

"  Worst  thing  he  could  do.  But  lend  a  hand,  and 
we  '11  shuck  these  oysters  before  rousting  him  out. 
You  can  rinse  those  I  've  opened.  Fill  the  pot 
with  water,  and  put  them  in  to  soak." 

"  They  look  very  tempting.  How  did  you 
chance  to  find  them  ?  " 

[204] 


THE    SAVAGE     MANIFEST 

"  Saw  'em  on  the  mangrove  roots  at  low  tide, 
first  time  I  nosed  around  here.  Tide  was  well 
up  to-day;  but  I  managed  to  get  these  all  right 
with  a  little  diving.  Only  trouble,  the  skeets 
most  ate  me  alive." 

Miss  Leslie  glanced  at  her  companion's  dry 
clothing,  and  came  back  to  the  oysters  them 
selves.  "  These  look  very  tempting.  Do  you 
like  them  raw  I  " 

"  Can't  say  I  like  them  much  any  way,  as  a  rule. 
But  if  I  did,  I  would  n't  eat  this  mess  raw." 

"Yes?" 

"This  must  be  the  dry  season  here,  and  the 
river  is  running  mighty  clear.  Just  the  same, 
it 's  nothing  more  than  liquid  malaria.  We  '11  not 
eat  these  oysters  till  they  've  been  pasteurized." 

"  If  the  water  is  so  dangerous,  I  fear  we  will 
suffer  before  we  can  return,"  replied  Miss  Leslie, 
and  she  held  up  the  flask. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Blake.  "  Half  gone  al 
ready  ?  That  was  Winthrope." 

"  He  was  very  thirsty.  Could  we  not  boil  a 
potful  of  the  river  water  ?  " 

"  Yes,  when  the  ebb  gets  strong,  if  we  run  too 
dry.  First,  though,  we  '11  make  a  try  for  cocoa- 
nuts.  Let's  hit  out  for  the  nearest  grove  now. 
The  main  thing  is  to  keep  moving." 

As  he  spoke,  Blake  caught  up  the  pot  and  his 
[205] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

club,  and  started  for  the  thorn  clump,  leaving 
the  skin,  together  with  the  meat  and  the  salt,  for 
Miss  Leslie  to  carry.  Winthrope  was  wakened 
by  a  touch  of  Blake's  foot,  and  all  three  were 
soon  walking  away  from  the  seashore,  just  within 
the  shady  border  of  the  mangrove  wood. 

At  the  first  fan-palm  Blake  stopped  to  gather 
a  number  of  leaves,  for  their  palm-leaf  hats  were 
now  cracked  and  broken.  A  little  farther  on  a 
ruddy  antelope,  with  lyrate  horns,  leaped  out 
of  the  bush  before  them  and  dashed  off  towards 
the  river  before  Blake  could  string  his  bow.  As 
if  in  mockery  of  his  lack  of  readiness,  a  troupe  of 
large  green  monkeys  set  up  a  wild  chattering  in 
a  tree  above  the  party. 

"  I  say,  Miss  Jenny,  do  you  think  you  can  lug 
the  pot,  if  we  go  slow  ?  It  is  n't  far  now." 

« I  '11  try." 

"  Good  for  you,  little  woman!  That'll  give 
me  a  chance  to  shoot  quick." 

They  moved  on  again  for  a  hundred  yards  or 
more ;  but  though  Blake  kept  a  sharp  lookout 
both  above  and  below,  he  saw  no  game  other 
than  a  few  small  birds  and  a  pair  of  blue  wood- 
pigeons.  When  he  sought  to  creep  up  on  the 
latter,  they  flew  into  the  next  tree.  In  following 
them,  he  came  upon  a  conical  mound  of  hard 
clay,  nearly  four  feet  high. 

[206] 


THE     SAVAGE     MANIFEST 

"  Hello ;  this  must  be  one  of  those  white  ant 
hills,"  he  said,  and  he  gave  the  mound  a  kick. 

Instantly  a  tiny  object  whirred  up  and  struck 
him  in  the  face. 

"  Whee  !  "  he  exclaimed,  springing  back  and 
striking  out.  "  A  hornet !  No  ;  it 's  a  bee  !  " 

"  Did  it  sting  you  1 "  cried  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Sting  ?  Keep  back ;  there 's  a  lot  more  of 
'em.  Sting  ?  Oh,  no ;  he  only  hypodermicked 
me  with  a  red-hot  darning  needle !  Shy  around 
here.  There 's  a  whole  swarm  of  the  little  devils, 
and  they  're  hopping  mad.  Hear  'em  buzz  !  " 

"  But  where  is  their  hive  ?  "  asked  Winthrope, 
as  all  three  drew  back  behind  the  nearest  bushes. 

"  Guess  they  've  borrowed  that  ant-hill,"  re 
plied  Blake,  gingerly  fingering  the  white  lump 
which  marked  the  spot  where  the  bee  had  struck 
him. 

"  Would  n't  it  be  delightful  if  we  had  some 
honey  1  "  exclaimed  Miss  Leslie. 

"  By  Jove,  that  really  would  n't  be  half  bad !  " 
chimed  in  Winthrope. 

"  Maybe  we  can,  Miss  Jenny;  only  we'll  need 
a  fire  to  tackle  those  buzzers.  Guess  it  '11  be  as 
'well  to  let  them  cool  off  a  bit  also.  The  cocoa- 
nuts  are  only  a  little  way  ahead  now.  Here; 
give  me  the  pot." 

They  soon  came  to  a  small  grove  of  cocoanut 
[  207] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

palms,  where  Blake  threw  down  his  club  and  bow 
and  handed  his  burning-glass  to  Miss  Leslie. 

"  Here,"  he  said ;  "  you  and  Win  start  a  fire. 
Sft  's  early  yet,  but  I  'm  thinking  we  '11  all  be 
ready  enough  for  oyster  stew." 

"  How  about  the  meat  1 "  asked  Miss  Leslie. 

"Keep  that  till  later.  Here  goes  for  our 
dessert." 

Selecting  one  of  the  smaller  palms,  Blake  spat 
on  his  hands,  and  began  to  climb  the  slender 
trunk.  Aided  by  previous  experiences,  he  mounted 
steadily  to  the  top.  The  descent  was  made  with 
even  more  care  and  steadiness,  for  he  did  not  wish 
to  tear  the  skin  from  his  hands  again. 

"  Now,  Win,"  he  said,  as  he  neared  the  bottom 
and  sprang  down,  "  leave  the  cooking  to  Miss 
Leslie,  and  husk  some  of  those  nuts.  You  won't 
more  'n  have  time  to  do  it  before  the  stew  is 
ready." 

Winthrope's  response  was  to  draw  out  his  pen 
knife.  Blake  stretched  himself  at  ease  in  the 
shade,  but  kept  a  critical  eye  on  his  companions. 
Although  Winthrope's  fingers  trembled  with 
weakness,  he  worked  with  a  precision  and  rapid 
ity  that  drew  a  grunt  of  approval  from  Blake. 
Presently  Miss  Leslie,  who  had  been  stirring  the 
stew  with  a  twig,  threw  in  a  little  salt,  and  drew 
the  pot  from  the  fire. 

[  208  ] 


THE    SAVAGE     MANIFEST 

"  En  avant,  gentlemen !  Dinner  is  served," 
she  called  gayly. 

"  What 's  that  I "  demanded  Blake.  "Oh ;  sure. 
Hold  on,  Miss  Jenny.  You  '11  dump  it  all." 

He  wrapped  a  wisp  of  grass  about  the  pot,  and 
filled  the  three  cocoanut  bowls.  The  stew  was 
boiling  hot ;  but  they  fished  up  the  oysters  with 
the  bamboo  forks  that  Blake  had  carved  some 
days  since.  By  the  time  the  oysters  were  eaten, 
the  liquor  in  the  bowl  was  cool  enough  to  drink. 
The  process  was  repeated  until  the  pot  had  been 
emptied  of  its  contents. 

"  Say,  but  that  was  something  like,"  murmured 
Blake.  "  If  only  we  'd  had  pretzels  and  beer  to 
go  with  it!  But  these  nuts  won't  be  bad." 

When  they  finished  the  cocoanuts,  Winthrope 
asked  for  a  drink  of  water. 

"  Would  it  not  be  best  to  keep  it  until  later  ?  " 
replied  Miss  Leslie. 

"Sure,"  put  in  Blake.  "We've  had  enough 
liquid  refreshments  to  do  any  one.  If  I  don't  look 
out,  you  '11  both  be  drinking  river  water.  Just  bear 
in  mind  the  work  I  'd  have  to  carve  a  pair  of  grave 
stones.  No  ;  that  flask  has  got  to  do  you  till  we 
get  home.  I  don't  shin  up  any  more  telegraph 
poles  to-day." 

"  Would  it  not  be  best  for  Mr.  Winthrope  to 
rest  during  the  noon  hours  I " 

14  [  209  1 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  'Fraid  not,  Miss  Jenny.  We  're  not  on  t'other 
side  of  Jordan  yet,  and  there's  no  rest  for  the 
weary  this  side." 

"  What  odd  expressions  you  use,  Mr.  Blake  !  " 

"  Just  giving  you  the  reverse  application  of 
one  of  those  songs  they  jolly  us  with  in  the  mis 
sion  churches  —  " 

"I'm  sure,  Mr.  Blake—" 

"  Me,  too,  Miss  Jenny  !  So,  as  that 's  settled, 
we  '11  be  moving.  Chuck  some  live  coals  in  the 
pot,  and  come  on." 

He  started  off,  weapons  in  hand.  Winthrope 
made  a  languid  effort  to  take  possession  of  the  pot. 
But  Miss  Leslie  pushed  him  aside,  and  wrapping 
all  in  the  antelope  skin,  slung  it  upon  her  back. 

"  The  brute  !  "  exclaimed  Winthrope.  "  To 
leave  such  a  load  for  you,  when  he  knew  that  I 
can  do  so  little  !  " 

The  girl  met  his  outburst  with  a  brave  attempt 
at  a  smile.  "Please  try  to  look  at  the  bright  side, 
Mr.  Winthrope.  Really,  I  believe  he  thinks  it  is 
best  for  us  to  exert  ourselves." 

"He  has  other  opinions  with  which  we  of  the 
cultured  class  would  hardly  agree,  Miss  Leslie. 
Consider  his  command  that  we  shall  go  thirsty 
until  he  permits  us  to  return  to  the  cliffs.  The 
man's  impertinence  is  intolerable.  I  shall  go  to 
the  river  and  drink  when  I  choose." 

[  210] 


THE     SAVAGE     MANIFEST 

"  Oh,  but  the  danger  of  malaria !  " 

"  Nonsense.  Malaria,  like  yellow  fever,  comes 
only  from  the  bite  of  certain  species  of  mosquitoes. 
If  we  have  the  fever,  it  will  be  entirely  his  fault 
We  have  been  bitten  repeatedly  this  morning,  and 
all  because  he  must  compel  us  to  come  with  him 
to  this  infected  lowland." 

"  Still,  I  think  we  should  do  what  Mr.  Blake 
says." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Gene  vie  ve,  for  your  sake  I  will 
endeavor  not  to  break  with  the  fellow.  Only,  you 
know,  it  is  deuced  hard  to  keep  one's  temper  when 
one  considers  what  a  bounder  —  what  an  unmiti 
gated  cad  —  " 

"  Stop  !  I  will  not  listen  to  another  word  !  " 
exclaimed  the  girl,  and  she  hurried  after  Blake, 
leaving  Winthrope  staring  in  astonishment. 

"  My  word !  "  he  muttered  ;  "  can  it  be,  after 
all  I  Ve  done  —  and  him,  of  all  the  low  fellows  —  " 

He  stood  for  several  moments  in  deep  thought. 
The  look  on  his  sallow  face  was  far  from  pleasant. 


[211] 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  SERPENT   STRIKES 

WHEN  Winthrope    came    up  with   the 
others,    they   were    gathering    green 
leaves  to  throw  on  the  fire  which  was 
blazing  close  beside  the  ant-hill. 

"  Get  a  move  on  you  !  "  called  Blake.  "  You  Ve 
slow.  Grab  a  bunch  of  leaves,  and  get  into  the 
smoke,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  sturig." 

Winthrope  neither  gathered  any  leaves  nor 
hurried  himself,  until  he  was  visited  by  a  highly 
irritated  bee.  Then  he  obeyed  with  alacrity. 
Blake  was  far  too  intent  on  other  matters  to  heed 
the  Englishman.  Leaping  in  and  out  of  the  thick 
of  the  smoke,  he  pounded  the  ant-hill  with  his 
club,  until  he  had  broken  a  gaping  hole  into  the 
cavity.  The  smoke,  pouring  into  the  hive,  made 
short  work  of  the  bees  that  had  not  already  been 
suffocated. 

Although  the  antelope  skin  was  drawn  into  the 
shape  of  a  sack,  both  it  and  the  pot  were  filled  to 
overflowing  with  honey,  and  there  were  still  more 
combs  left  than  the  three  could  eat. 

Blake  caught  Winthrope  smiling  with  satisfac 
tion  as  he  licked  his  fingers. 

[2121 


THE     SERPENT    STRIKES 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  my  expedition  now, 
old  man  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"I  —  ah  —  must  admit,  Blake,  we  have  had  a 
most  enjoyable  change  of  food." 

"  If  you  are  sure  it  will  agree  with  you," 
remarked  Miss  Leslie. 

"  But  I  am  sure  of  that,  Miss  Genevieve.  I 
could  digest  anything  to-day.  I  'm  fairly  rav 
enous." 

"All  the  more  reason  to  be  careful,"  rejoined 
Blake.  "I  guess,  though,  what  we've  had '11  do 
no  harm.  We'll  let  it  settle  a  bit,  here  in  the 
shade,  and  then  hit  the  home  trail." 

"  Could  we  not  first  go  to  the  river,  Mr.  Blake  I 
My  hands  are  dreadfully  sticky." 

"  Win  will  take  you.  It 's  only  a  little  way  to 
the  bank  here  and  there 's  not  much  underbrush." 

"If  you  think  it's  quite  safe  — "  remarked 
Winthrope. 

"It's  safe  enough.  Go  on.  You'll  see  the 
river  in  half  a  minute.  Only  thing,  you  'd  better 
watch  out  for  alligators." 

"  I  believe  that  —  er  —  properly  speaking,  these 
are  crocodiles." 

"  You  don't  say !  Heap  of  difference  it  will 
make  if  one  gets  you." 

Miss  Leslie  caught  Winthrope's  eye.  He 
turned  on  his  heel,  and  led  the  way  for  her 

[213] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

through  the  first  thicket.  Beyond  this  they  came 
to  a  little  glade  which  ran  through  to  the  river. 
When  they  reached  the  bank,  they  stepped  cau 
tiously  down  the  muddy  slope,  and  bathed  their 
hands  in  the  clear  water.  As  Miss  Leslie  rose, 
Winthrope  bent  over  and  began  to  drink. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Winthrope  !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  please 
don't !  In  your  weak  condition,  I  'm  so  afraid  —  " 

"  Do  not  alarm  yourself.  I  am  perfectly  well, 
and  I  am  quite  as  competent  to  judge  what  is 
good  for  me  as  your  —  ah  —  countryman." 

"  Mr.  Winthrope,  I  am  thinking  only  of  your 
own  good." 

Winthrope  took  another  deep  draught,  rinsed 
his  fingers  fastidiously,  and  arose. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Genevieve,"  he  observed, 
"  a  woman  looks  at  these  matters  in  such  a  dif 
ferent  light  from  a  man.  But  you  should  know 
that  there  are  some  things  a  gentleman  cannot 
tolerate." 

"  You  were  welcome  to  all  the  water  in  the 
flask.  Surely  with  that  you  could  have  waited, 
if  only  to  please  me." 

"Ah,  if  you  put  it  that  way,  I  must  beg 
pardon.  Anything  to  please  you,  I  'm  sure ! 
Pray  forgive  me,  and  forget  the  incident.  It  is 
now  past." 

"  I  hope  so  !  "  she  murmured  ;  but  her  heart 
[214] 


THE     SERPENT     STRIKES 

sank  as  she  glanced  at  his  sallow  face,  and  she 
recalled  his  languid,  feeble  movements. 

Piqued  by  her  look,  Winthrope  started  back 
through  the  glade.  Miss  Leslie  was  turning  to 
follow,  when  she  caught  sight  of  a  gorgeous 
crimson  blossom  under  the  nearest  tree.  It  was 
the  first  flower  she  had  seen  since  being  ship 
wrecked.  She  uttered  a  little  cry  of  delight,  and 
ran  to  pluck  the  blossom. 

Winthrope,  glancing  about  at  her  exclamation, 
saw  her  stoop  over  the  flower  —  and  in  the  same 
instant  he  saw  a  huge  vivid  coil,  all  black  and  green 
and  yellow,  flash  up  out  of  the  bedded  leaves  and 
strike  against  the  girl.  She  staggered  back,  scream 
ing  with  horror,  yet  seemed  unable  to  run. 

Winthrope  swung  up  his  stick,  and  dashed 
across  the  glade  towards  her. 

"  What  is  it  —  a  snake  ?  "  he  cried. 

The  girl  did  not  seem  to  hear  him.  She  had 
ceased  screaming,  and  stood  rigid  with  fright, 
glaring  down  at  the  ground  before  her.  In  a 
moment  Winthrope  was  near  enough  to  make 
out  the  brilliant  glistening  body,  now  extended 
full  length  in  the  grass.  It  was  nearly  five  feet 
long  and  thick  as  his  thigh.  Another  step,  and 
he  saw  the  hideous  triangular  head,  lifted  a  few 
inches  on  the  thick  neck.  The  cold  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  girl  in  a  malignant,  deadly  stare. 

[2151 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Snake  !  snake ! "  he  yelled,  and  thrust  his 
cane  at  the  reptile's  tail. 

Again  came  a  flashing  leap  of  the  beautiful  or 
nate  coil,  and  the  stick  was  struck  from  Win- 
thrope's  hand.  He  danced  backward,  wild  with 
excitement. 

"  Snake  !  —  Hi,  Blake  !  monster !  —  Run,  Miss 
Leslie  !  I  '11  hold  him  —  I'll  get  another  stick  !  " 

He  darted  aside  to  catch  up  a  branch,  and  then 
ran  in  and  struck  boldly  at  the  adder,  which  reared 
hissing  to  meet  him.  But  the  blow  fell  short,  and 
the  rotten  wood  shattered  on  the  ground.  Again 
Winthrope  ran  aside  for  a  stick.  There  was  none 
near,  and  as  he  paused  to  glance  about,  Blake 
came  sprinting  down  the  glade. 

" Where?"  he  shouted. 

"  There  —  Hi !  look  out !     You  '11  be  on  him  !  " 

Blake  stopped  short,  barely  beyond  striking 
distance  of  the  hissing  reptile. 

"  Wow  !  "  he  yelled.  "  Puff  adder !  I  '11  fix 
him." 

He  leaped  back,  and  thrust  his  bow  at  the  snake. 
The  challenge  was  met  by  a  vicious  lunge.  Even 
where  he  stood  Winthrope  heard  the  thud  of  the 
reptile's  head  upon  the  ground. 

"  Now,  once  more,  tootsie  ! "  mocked  Blake, 
swinging  up  his  club. 

Again  the  adder  struck  at  the  bow  tip,  more 
[216] 


THE     SERPENT    STRIKES 

viciously  than  before.  With  the  flash  of  the 
stroke,  Blake's  right  foot  thrust  forward,  and  his 
club  came  down  with  all  the  drive  of  his  sinewy 
arm  behind  it.  The  blow  fell  across  the  thickest 
part  of  the  adder's  outstretched  body. 

"  Told  you  so  !  See  him  wiggle !  "  shouted 
Blake.  "  Broke  his  back,  first  lick  —  What 's  the 
matter,  Miss  Jenny  ?  He  can't  do  anything  now." 

Miss  Leslie  did  not  answer.  She  stood  rigid, 
her  face  ashy-gray,  her  dilated  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
writhing,  hissing  adder. 

"I  —  I  think  the  snake  struck  her!"  gasped 
Winthrope,  suddenly  overcome  with  horror. 

u  God  !  "  cried  Blake.  He  dropped  his  club, 
and  rushed  to  the  girl.  In  a  moment  he  had 
knelt  before  her  and  flung  up  her  leopard-skin 
skirt.  Her  stockings  ripped  to  shreds  in  his  fran 
tic  grasp.  There,  a  little  below  her  right  knee, 
was  a  tiny  red  wound.  Blake  put  his  lips  to  it, 
and  sucked  with  fierce  energy. 

Then  the  girl  found  her  voice. 

"Go  away  —  go  away!  How  dare  you !  "  she 
cried,  as  her  face  flushed  scarlet. 

Blake  turned,  spat,  and  burst  out  with  a  loud 
demand  of  Winthrope :  "  Quick !  the  little  knife 
—  I  '11  have  to  slash  it !  Ten  times  worse  than 
a  rattlesnake  —  Lord  !  you  're  slow  —  I  '11  use 
mine  ! " 

[217] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  Let  go  of  me  —  let  go  !  What  do  you  mean, 
sir  ?  "  cried  the  girl,  struggling  to  free  herself. 

"Hold  still,  you  little  fool!"  he  shouted. 
"It's  death  —  sure  death,  if  I  don't  get  the 
poison  from  that  bite  !  " 

"  I  'm  not  bitten  —  Let  go,  I  say  !  It  struck 
in  the  fold  of  my  skirt." 

"  For  God's  sake,  Jenny,  don't  lie !  It 's 
certain  death  !  I  saw  the  mark  —  " 

"  That  was  a  thorn.     I  drew  it  out  an  hour  ago." 

Blake  looked  up  into  her  hazel  eyes.  They 
were  blazing  with  indignant  scorn.  He  freed 
her,  and  rose  with  clumsy  slowness.  Again  he 
glanced  at  her  quivering,  scarlet  face,  only  to 
look  away  with  a  sheepish  expression. 

"  I  guess  you  think  I  'm  just  a  damned  med 
dlesome  idiot,"  he  mumbled. 

She  did  not  answer.  He  stood  for  a  little, 
rubbing  a  finger  across  his  sun-blistered  lips. 
Suddenly  he  stopped  and  looked  at  the  finger. 
It  was  streaked  with  blood. 

"  Whew  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Did  n't  stop  to 
think  of  that !  It 's  just  as  well  for  me,  Miss 
Jenny,  that  was  n't  an  adder  bite.  A  little 
poison  on  my  sore  lip  would  have  done  for  me. 
Ten  to  one,  we  'd  both  have  turned  up  our  toes 
at  the  same  time.  Of  course,  though,  that'd 
be  nothing  to  you." 

[218] 


THE     SERPENT     STRIKES 

Miss  Leslie  put  her  hands  before  her  face,  and 
burst  into  hysterical  weeping. 

Blake  looked  around,  far  more  alarmed  than 
when  facing  the  adder. 

"Here,  you  blooming  lud ! "  he  shouted; 
"  take  the  lady  away,  and  be  quick  about  it. 
She'll  go  dotty  if  she  sees  any  more  snake  stunts. 
Clear  out  with  her,  while  I  smash  the  wriggler." 

Winthrope,  who  had  been  staring  fixedly  at 
the  beautiful  coloring  and  loathsome  form  of  the 
writhing  adder,  started  at  Blake's  harsh  command 
as  though  struck. 

"I —  er  —  to  be  sure,"  he  stammered,  and  dart 
ing  around  to  the  hysterical  girl,  he  took  her  arm 
and  hurried  her  away  up  the  glade. 

They  had  gone  several  paces  when  Blake  came 
running  up  behind  them.  Winthrope  looked 
back  with  a  glance  of  inquiry.  Blake  shook  his 
head. 

"Not  yet,"  he  said.  "  Give  me  your  cigarette 
case.  I  've  thought  of  something  —  Hold  on ; 
take  out  the  cigarettes.  Smoke  'em,  if  you  like." 

Case  in  hand,  Blake  returned  to  the  wounded 
adder,  and  picked  up  his  club.  A  second  smash 
ing  blow  would  have  ended  the  matter  at  once ; 
but  Blake  did  not  strike.  Instead,  he  feinted 
with  his  club  until  he  managed  to  pin  down 
the  venomous  head.  The  club  lay  across  the 

[  219  ] 


monster's  neck,  and  he  held  it  fast  with  the 
pressure  of  his  foot. 

When,  half  an  hour  later,  he  wiped  his  knife 
on  a  wisp  of  grass  and  stood  up,  the  cigarette 
case  contained  over  a  tablespoonful  of  a  crys 
talline  liquid.  He  peered  in  at  it,  his  heavy 
jaw  thrust  out,  his  eyes  glowing  with  savage 
elation. 

"Talk  about  your  meat  trusts  and  Win 
chesters!"  he  exulted;  "here's  a  whole  car 
load  of  beef  in  this  little  box  —  enough  dope 
to  morgue  a  herd  of  steers.  Good  God,  though, 
that  was  a  close  shave  for  her ! " 

His  face  sobered,  and  he  stood  for  several 
moments  staring  thoughtfully  into  space.  Then 
his  gaze  chanced  to  fall  upon  the  great  crimson 
blossom  which  had  so  nearly  lured  the  girl  to 
her  death. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  that 's  an  amaryllis. 
Wonder  if  she  was  n't  coming  to  pick  it  —  "  He 
snapped  shut  the  lid  of  the  cigarette  case,  thrust 
it  carefully  into  his  shirt  pocket,  and  stepped 
forward  to  pluck  the  flower.  "  Makes  a  fellow 
feel  like  a  kid;  but  maybe  it'll  make  her  feel 
less  sore  at  me." 

He  stood  gazing  at  the  flower  for  several 
moments,  his  eyes  aglow  with  a  soft  blue  light. 

"  Whew  !  "  he  sighed ;  "  if  only  —  But  what  's 
[  220  ] 


THE    SERPENT    STRIKES 

the  use  I  She 's  'way  out  of  my  class  —  a  rough 
brute  like  me !  All  the  same,  it 's  up  to  me  to 
take  care  of  her.  She  can't  keep  me  from  being 
her  friend  —  and  she  sure  can't  object  to  my 
picking-  flowers  for  her." 

Amaryllis  in  hand,  he  gathered  up  his  bow 
and  club.  Then  he  paused  to  study  the  skin 
of  the  decapitated  adder.  The  inspection  ended 
with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

"  Better  not,  Thomas.  It  would  make  a  dandy 
quiver ;  but  then,  it  might  get  on  her  nerves." 

When  he  came  to  the  ant-hill,  he  found  com 
panions  and  honey  alike  gone.  He  went  on 
to  the  cocoanuts.  There  he  came  upon  Win- 
thrope  stretched  flat  beside  the  skin  of  honey. 
Miss  Leslie  was  seated  a  little  way  beyond,  ner 
vously  bending  a  palm-leaf  into  shape  for  a  hat. 

"I  say,  Blake,"  drawled  Winthrope,  "you've 
been  a  deuced  long  time  in  coming.  It  was  no 
end  of  a  task  to  lug  the  honey  —  " 

Blake  brushed  past  without  replying,  and  went 
on  until  he  stood  before  the  girl.  As  she  glanced 
up  at  him,  he  held  out  the  crimson  blossom. 

"  Thought  you  might  like  posies,"  he  said,  in 
a  hesitating  voice. 

Instead  of  taking  the  flower,  she  drew  back 
with  a  gesture  of  repulsion. 

"  Oh,  take  it  away !  "  she  exclaimed. 
[221] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Blake  flung  the  rejected  gift  on  the  ground, 
and  crushed  it  beneath  his  heel. 

"  Catch  me  making  a  fool  of  myself  again ! " 
he  growled. 

"  I  —  I  did  not  mean  it  that  way  —  really  I 
didn't,  Mr.  Blake.  It  was  the  thought  of  that 
awful  snake." 

But  Blake,  cut  to  the  quick,  had  turned  away, 
far  too  angry  to  heed  what  she  said.  He  stopped 
short  beside  the  Englishman ;  but  only  to  sling 
the  skin  of  honey  upon  his  back.  The  load  was 
by  no  means  a  light  one,  even  for  his  strength. 
Yet  he  caught  up  the  heavy  pot  as  well,  and 
made  off  across  the  plain  at  a  pace  which  the 
others  could  not  hope  to  equal. 

As  Winthrope  rose  and  came  forward  to  join 
Miss  Leslie,  he  looked  about  closely  for  the 
bruised  flower.  It  was  nowhere  in  sight. 

"Er —  beg  pardon,  Miss  Genevieve,  but  did 
not  Blake  drop  the  bloom  —  er  —  blossom  some 
where  about  here "? " 

"  Perhaps  he  did,"  replied  Miss  Leslie.  She 
spoke  with  studied  indifference. 

"I  —  ah  —  saw  the  fellow  exhibit  his  impu 
dence." 

"Ye-esf" 

"You  know,  I  think  it  high  time  the  bounder 
is  taken  down  a  peg." 

[  222  ] 


THE    SERPENT    STRIKES 

"  Ah,  indeed !     Then  why  do  you  not  try  it  I " 

"  Miss  Genevieve !  you  know  that  at  present  I 
am  physically  so  much  his  inferior  —  " 

"  How  about  mentally  I  " 

Though  the  girl's  eyes  were  veiled  by  their 
lashes,  she  saw  Winthrope  cast  after  Blake  a  look 
that  seemed  to  her  almost  fiercely  vindictive. 

11  Welll"  she  said,  smiling,  but  watching  him 
closely. 

"  Mentally  !  —  We  '11  soon  see  about  that ! "  he 
muttered.  "  I  must  say,  Miss  Genevieve,  it 
strikes  me  as  deuced  odd,  you  know,  to  hear 
you  speak  so  pleasantly  of  a  person  who  —  not  to 
mention  past  occurrences  —  has  to-day,  with  the 
most  shocking  disregard  of — er  —  decency  —  " 

"  Stop  !  — stop  this  instant !  "  screamed  the  girl, 
her  nerves  overwrought. 

Winthrope  smiled  with  complacent  assurance. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  he  drawled,  "  allow 
me  to  repeat,  '  All  is  fair  in  love  and  war.' 
Believe  me,  I  love  you  most  ardently." 

"No  gentleman  would  press  his  suit  at  such  a 
time  as  this !  " 

"  Really  now,  I  fancy  I  have  always  comported 
myself  as  a  gentleman  —  " 

"A  trifle  too  much  so,  truth  to  say!"  she 
retorted. 

"  Ah,  indeed.  However,  this  is  now  quite 
[  223  1 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

another  matter.  Has  it  not  occurred  to  you,  nay 
dear,  that  this  entire  experience  of  ours  since  that 
beastly  storm  is  rather  —  er  —  compromising  !  " 

"  You  —  you  dare  say  such  a  thing!  I'll  go 
this  instant  and  tell  Mr.  Blake  !  I'll—" 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  madam,  —  but  are  you 
prepared  to  marry  that  barbarous  clodhopper!  " 

"  Marry  1     What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"Precisely  that.  It  is  a  question  of  marriage, 
if  you'll  pardon  me.  And,  you  see,  I  flatter 
myself,  that  when  it  comes  to  the  point,  it  will 
not  be  Blake,  but  myself —  " 

"Ah,  indeed!  And  if  I  should  prefer  neither 
of  you!" 

"Begging  your  pardon, —  I  fancy  you  will 
honor  me  with  your  hand,  my  dear.  For  one 
thing,  you  admit  that  I  am  a  gentleman." 

"Oh,  indeed!" 

"  One  moment,  please  !  I  am  trying  to  inti 
mate  to  you,  as  delicately  as  possible,  how  —  er  — 
embarrassing  you  would  find  it  to  have  these 
little  occurrences  —  above  all,  to-day's  —  noised 
abroad  to  the  vulgar  crowd,  or  even  among  your 
friends  —  " 

"  What  do  you  mean!  What  do  you 
want ! "  cried  the  girl,  staring  at  him  with  a 
deepening  fear  in  her  bewildered  eyes. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear,  it  grieves  me  to  so 
[224] 


THE    SERPENT    STRIKES 

perturb  you ;  but  —  er  —  love  must  have  its  way, 
you  know." 

"  You  forget.     There  is  Mr.  Blake." 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure  !  But  really  now,  you  would 
not  ask,  or  even  permit  him  to  murder  me ;  and 
one  is  not  legally  bound,  you  know,  to  observe 
promises  —  a  pledge  of  silence,  for  example  — 
when  extorted  under  duress,  under  violence,  you 
know.'' 

Miss  Leslie  looked  the  Englishman  up  and 
down,  her  brown  eyes  sparkling  with  quick- 
returning  anger.  He  met  her  scorn  with  a  smile 
of  smug  complacency. 

"  Cad !  "  she  cried,  and  turning  her  back  upon 
him,  she  set  out  across  the  plain  after  Blake. 


15  [  225  ] 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
THE  EAVESDROPPER  CAUGHT 

EVEN  had  it  not  been  for  her  doubts  of 
Blake,  the  girl's  modesty  would  have 
caused  her  to  think  twice  before  repeat 
ing  to  him  the  Englishman's  insulting  proposal. 
While  she  yet  hesitated  and  delayed,  Winthrope 
came  down  with  a  second  attack  of  fever.  Blake, 
who  until  then  had  held  himself  sullenly  apart 
from  him  as  well  as  from  Miss  Leslie,  at  once 
softened  to  a  gentler,  or,  at  least,  to  a  more  con 
siderate  mood.  Though  his  speech  and  bearing 
continued  morose,  he  took  upon  himself  all 
the  duties  of  night  nurse,  besides  working  and 
foraging  several  hours  each  day. 

Much  to  Miss  Leslie's  surprise,  she  found  her 
self  tending  the  invalid  through  the  daytime  al 
most  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  But 
everything  about  this  wild  and  perilous  life  was 
so  strange  and  unnatural  to  her  that  she  found  her 
self  accepting  the  most  unconventional  relations 
as  a  regular  consequence  of  the  situation.  She 
was  feverishly  eager  for  anything  that  might 
occupy  her  mind ;  for  she  felt  that  to  brood  over 

[  226] 


THE    EAVESDROPPER     CAUGHT 

the  future  might  mean  madness.  The  mere 
thought  of  the  possibilities  was  far  too  terrify 
ing  to  be  calmly  dwelt  upon.  Though  slight, 
there  had  been  some  little  comfort  in  the  belief 
that  she  could  rely  on  Winthrope.  But  now  she 
was  left  alone  with  her  doubt  and  dread.  Even 
if  she  had  nothing  to  fear  from  Blake,  there  were 
all  the  savage  dangers  of  the  coast,  and  behind 
those,  far  worse,  the  fever. 

Meantime  Blake  went  about  his  share  of  the 
camp  work,  gruff  and  silent,  but  with  the  usual 
concrete  results.  He  brought  load  after  load  of 
fresh  cocoanuts,  and  took  great  pains  to  hunt  out 
the  deliciously  flavored  eggs  of  the  frigate  birds 
to  tempt  Winthrope's  failing  appetite.  When 
Miss  Leslie  suggested  that  beef  juice  would  be 
much  better  for  the  invalid  than  broth,  he  went 
out  immediately  in  search  of  a  gum-bearing  tree, 
and  that  night,  after  heating  a  small  quantity  of 
gum  in  the  cigarette  case  with  the  adder  poison, 
he  spent  hours  replacing  his  arrow-heads  with 
small  barbed  tips  that  could  be  loosened  from 
their  sockets  by  a  slight  pull. 

A  little  before  dawn  he  dipped  two  of  his  new 
arrow-heads  in  the  sticky  contents  of  the  cigarette 
case,  fitted  them  carefully  to  their  shafts,  and 
stole  away  down  the  cleft.  Dawn  found  him 
crouched  low  in  the  grass  where  the  overflow 

[  227] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

from  the  pool  ran  out  into  the  plain  along  its 
little  channel.  He  could  see  large  forms  mov 
ing  away  from  him ;  then  came  the  flood  of 
crimson  light,  and  he  made  out  that  the  figures 
were  a  drove  of  huge  eland. 

His  eyes  flashed  with  eagerness.  It  was  a  long 
shot ;  but  he  knew  that  no  more  was  required  than 
to  pierce  the  skin  on  any  part  of  his  quarry's  body. 
He  put  his  fingers  between  his  teeth,  and  sent  out 
a  piercing  whistle.  It  was  a  trick  he  had  tried 
more  than  once  on  deer  and  pronghorn  antelope. 
As  he  expected,  the  eland  halted  and  swung  half 
around.  Their  ox-like  sides  presented  a  mark 
hard  to  miss. 

He  rose  and  shot  as  they  were  wheeling  to  fly. 
Before  he  could  fit  his  second  arrow  to  the  string, 
the  whole  herd  were  running  off  at  a  lumbering 
gallop.  He  lowered  his  bow,  and  walked  after 
the  animals,  smiling  with  grim  anticipation.  He 
had  seen  his  arrow  strike  against  the  side  of  the 
young  bull  at  which  he  had  aimed. 

A  little  beyond  where  the  bull  had  stood,  he 
came  upon  the  headless  shaft  of  his  arrow.  As  he 
stooped  and  caught  it  up,  he  saw  one  of  the  fleeing 
animals  fall.  When  he  came  up  with  the  dead 
bull,  his  first  act  was  to  recover  his  arrow-tip  and 
cut  out  the  flesh  around  the  wound.  Provided 
only  with  his  weak-bladed  knife,  he  found  it  no 

[  228] 


THE    EAVESDROPPER    CAUGHT 

easy  task  to  butcher  so  large  a  beast.  Though  he 
had  now  acquired  considerable  dexterity  in  the 
art,  noon  had  passed  before  he  brought  the  first 
load  of  meat  up  the  cleft. 

So  great  was  the  abundance  of  meat  that  Blake 
worked  all  the  remainder  of  the  day  and  all  night 
stringing  the  flesh  on  the  curing  racks,  and  Miss 
Leslie  tried  out  pot  after  pot  of  fat  and  tallow, 
until  every  spare  vessel  was  filled,  and  she  had  to 
resort  to  a  hollow  in  the  rock  beside  the  spring. 
Blake  promised  to  make  more  pots  as  soon  as  he 
could  fetch  the  clay,  but  he  had  first  to  dress  the 
eland  hide,  and  prepare  a  new  stock  of  thread  and 
cord  from  parts  of  the  animal  which  he  was  care 
ful  not  to  let  her  see. 

Whatever  their  concern  for  the  future,  —  and 
even  Blake's  was  keen  and  bitter,  —  the  party,  as 
a  party,  for  the  time  being  might  have  been  con 
sidered  extremely  fortunate.  They  had  a  shelter 
secure  alike  from  the  weather  and  from  wild 
beasts ;  an  abundance  of  nutritious  food,  and,  as 
material  for  clothing,  the  bushbuck,  hyena,  and 
eland  hides.  To  obtain  more  skins  and  more  meat 
Blake  now  knew  would  be  a  simple  matter  so  long 
as  he  had  enough  poison  left  in  the  cigarette  case 
to  moisten  the  tips  of  his  arrows. 

Even  Winthrope's  relapse  proved  far  less  serious 
than  might  reasonably  have  been  expected.  The 

[  229] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

fever  soon  left  him,  and  within  a  few  days  he 
regained  strength  enough  to  care  for  himself. 
Here,  however,  much  to  Blake's  perplexity  and 
concern,  his  progress  seemed  to  stop,  and  all 
Blake's  urging  could  do  no  more  than  cause  him 
to  move  languidly  from  one  shady  spot  to  another. 
He  would  receive  Blake's  orders  with  a  smile  and 
a  drawling  "  Ya-as,  to  be  sure  !  "  —  and  would 
then  absolutely  ignore  the  matter. 

Only  in  two  ways  did  the  invalid  exhibit  any 
signs  of  energy.  He  could  and  did  eat  with  a 
heartiness  little  short  of  that  shown  by  Blake, 
and  he  would  insist  upon  seeking  opportunities 
to  press  his  attentions  upon  Miss  Leslie.  He  was 
careful  to  avoid  all  offensive  remarks ;  yet  the 
veriest  commonplace  from  his  lips  was  now  an 
offence  to  the  girl.  While  he  needed  her  as 
nurse,  she  had  endured  his  talk  as  part  of  her 
duty.  But  now  she  felt  that  she  could  no  longer 
do  so.  Taking  advantage  of  a  time  when  the 
Englishman  was,  as  she  supposed,  enjoying  a 
noonday  siesta  down  towards  the  barricade,  she 
went  to  meet  Blake,  who  had  been  up  on  the  cliff 
for  eggs. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  sang  out,  as  he  swung  down  the 
tree,  one  hand  gripping  the  clay  pot  in  which  he 
had  gathered  the  eggs.  "  What  you  doing  out 
in  the  sun  I  Get  into  the  shade." 

[  230  ] 


THE     EAVESDROPPER     CAUGHT 

She  stepped  into  the  shade,  and  waited  until 
he  had  climbed  down  the  pile  of  stones  which  he 
had  built  for  steps  at  the  foot  of  the  tree. 

"  Mr.  Blake,"  she  began,  "  could  not  I  do  this 
work.  —  gather  the  eggs  1 " 

"  You  could,  if  I  'd  let  you,  Miss  Jenny.  But  it 
strikes  me  you  've  got  quite  enough  to  do.  Tell 
you  the  truth,  I'd  like  to  make  Win  take  it  in  hand 
again.  But  all  my  cussing  won't  budge  him  an 
inch,  and  you  know,  when  it  comes  to  the  rub,  I 
could  n't  wallop  a  fellow  who  can  hardly  stand  up." 

"  Is  he  really  so  weak  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  Well,  you  know  how  —  Say,  you  don't 
mean  that  you  think  he  's  shamming  ?  " 

"I  did  not  say  that  I  thought  so,  Mr.  Blake. 
I  do  not  care  to  talk  about  him.  What  I  wish  is 
that  you  will  let  me  attend  to  this  work." 

"  Could  n't  think  of  it,  Miss  Jenny  !  You  're 
already  doing  your  share." 

"  Mr.  Blake,  —  if  you  must  know,  —  I  wish  to 
have  a  place  where  I  can  go  and  be  apart  —  alone." 

Blake  scowled.  "  Alone  with  that  dude  !  He'd 
soon  find  enough  strength  to  climb  up  with  you 
on  the  cliff." 

"I  —  ah  —  Mr.  Blake,  would  he  be  apt  to 
follow  me,  if  I  told  you  distinctly  I  should  rather 
be  alone  1 " 

"Would  he?  Well,  I  should  rather  guess 
[  231  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

riot !  "  cried  Blake,  making  no  attempt  to  conceal 
his  delight.  "  I  '11  give  him  a  hint  that  '11  make 
his  hair  curl.  From  now  on,  nobody  climbs 
up  this  tree  but  you,  without  first  asking  your 
permission." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Blake  !     You  are  very  kind." 

"  Kind  to  let  you  do  more  work !  But  say, 
I  '11  help  out  all  I  can  on  the  other  work.  You 
know,  Miss  Jenny,  —  a  rough  fellow  like  me  don't 
know  how  to  say  it,  but  he  can  think  it  just  the 
same,  —  I  'd  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  lie  held  out  his  rough,  powerful 
hand.  She  shrank  back  a  little,  and  caught  her 
breath  in  sudden  fright.  But  when  she  met  his 
steady  gaze,  her  fear  left  her  as  quickly  as  it  had 
come.  She  impulsively  thrust  out  her  hand,  and 
he  seized  it  in  a  grip  that  brought  the  tears  to  her 
eyes. 

"  Miss  Jenny  !  Miss  Jenny  !  "  he  murmured, 
utterly  unconscious  that  he  was  hurting  her, 
"  you  know  now  that  I  'm  your  friend,  Miss 
Jenny ! " 

"Yes,  Mr.^Blake,"  she  answered,  blushing  and 
drawing  her  hand  free.  "  I  believe  you  are  a 
friend  —  I  believe  I  can  trust  you." 

"  You  can,  by  —  Jirniny  !  But  say,"  he  con 
tinued,  blundering  with  dense  stupidity,  "  do  you 
really  mean  that  ?  Can  you  forgive  me  for  being 

[  232] 


THE    EAVESDROPPER    CAUGHT 

so  confounded  meddlesome,  the  other  day,  after 
the  snake —  " 

He  stopped  short,  for  upon  the  instant  she  was 
facing-  him,  as  on  that  eventful  day,  scarlet  with 
shame  and  anger. 

"  How  dare  you  speak  of  it  ? "  she  cried. 
"  You  're  —  you  're  not  a  gentleman  ! " 

Before  he  could  reply,  she  turned  and  left  him, 
walking  rapidly  and  with  her  head  held  high. 
Blake  stared  after  her  in  bewilderment. 

"  Well,  what  in  —  what  in  thunder  have  I  done 
now?"  he  exclaimed.  "Ladies  are  certainly 
mighty  funny  !  To  go  off  at  a  touch  —  and  just 
when  1  thought  we  were  going  to  be  chums  ! 
But  then,  of  course,  I  've  the  whole  thing  to 
learn  about  nice  girls  —  like  her !  " 

"I  —  ah  —  must  certainly  agree  with  you  there, 
Blake,"  drawled  Winthrope,  from  beside  the 
nearest  bush. 

Blake  turned  upon  him  with  savage  fury : 
"  You  dirty  sneak  !  —  you  gentleman  !  You  Ve 
been  eavesdropping ! " 

The  Englishman's  yellow  face  paled  to  a  sallow 
mottled  gray.  He  had  seen  the  same  look  in 
Blake's  eyes  twice  before,  and  this  time  Blake 
was  far  more  angry. 

"  You  sneak  !  —  you  sham  gent !  "  repeated  the 
American,  his  voice  sinking  ominously. 

[  233  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Winthrope  dropped  in  an  abject  heap,  as  though 
Blake  had  struck  him  with  his  club. 

"  No,  no  !  "  he  protested  shrilly.     "  I  am  a  real 

—  I  am  —  I  'm  a  not  — " 

"That's  it— you're  a  not!  That's  true!" 
broke  in  Blake,  with  sudden  grim  humor. 
"  You  're  a  nothing.  A  fellow  can't  even  wipe 
his  shoes  on  nothing!" 

The  change  to  sarcasm  came  as  an  immense 
relief  to  Winthrope. 

"  Ah,  I  say  now,  Blake,"  he  drawled,  pulling 
together  his  assurance  the  instant  the  dangerous 
light  left  Blake's  eyes,  "  I  say  now,  do  you  think 
it  fair  to  pick  on  a  man  who  is  so  much  your  —  er 

—  who  is  ill  and  weak  I " 

"  That 's  it  —  do  the  baby  act,"  jeered  Blake. 
"  But  say,  I  don't  know  just  how  much  eaves 
dropping  you  did ;  so  there  's  one  thing  I  '11  repeat 
for  the  special  benefit  of  your  ludship.  It  '11  be 
good  for  your  delicate  health  to  pay  attention. 
From  now  on,  the  cliff  top  belongs  to  Miss  Leslie. 
Gents  and  book  agents  not  allowed.  Under 
stand?  You  don't  go  up  there  without  her 
special  invite.  If  you  do,  I  '11  twist  your  damned 
neck ! " 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  and  left  the  English 
man  cowering. 

[234] 


CHAPTER    XIX 
AN  OMINOUS  LULL 

THE  three  saw  nothing  more  of  each  other 
that  day.  Miss  Leslie  had  withdrawn  into 
the  baobab,  and  Blake  had  gone  off  down 
the  cleft  for  more  salt.  He  did  not  return  until 
after  the  others  were  asleep.  Miss  Leslie  had 
gone  without  her  supper,  or  had  eaten  some  of 
the  food  stored  within  the  tree. 

When,  late  the  next  morning,  she  finally  left  her 
seclusion,  Blake  was  nowhere  in  sight.  Ignoring 
Winthrope's  attempts  to  start  a  conversation,  she 
hurried  through  her  breakfast,  and  having  gathered 
a  supply  of  food  and  water,  went  to  spend  the  day 
on  the  headland. 

Evening  forced  her  to  return  to  the  cleft. 
She  had  emptied  the  water  flask  by  noon,  and 
was  thirsty.  Winthrope  was  dozing  beneath  his 
canopy,  which  Blake  had  moved  some  yards 
down  towards  the  barricade.  Blake  was  cook 
ing  supper. 

He  did  not  look  up,  and  met  her  attempt  at 
a  pleasant  greeting  with  an  inarticulate  grunt. 

[235] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

When  she  turned  to  enter  the  baobab,  she  found 
the  opening  littered  with  bamboos  and  green 
creepers  and  pieces  of  large  branches  with  charred 
ends.  On  either  side,  midway  through  the  en 
trance,  a  vertical  row  of  holes  had  been  sunk 
through  the  bark  of  the  tree  into  the  soft  wood. 

"What  is  this?"  she  asked.  "Are  you  plan 
ning  a  porch  ?  " 

"  Maybe,"  he  replied. 

"  But  why  should  you  make  the  holes  so  far  in  I 
I  know  so  little  about  these  matters,  but  I  should 
have  fancied  the  holes  would  come  on  the  front  of 
the  tree." 

"  You  '11  see  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  How  did  you  make  the  holes  ?  They  look 
black,  as  though  —  " 

"  Burnt  'em,  of  course  —  hot  stones." 

"  That  was  so  clever  of  you !  " 

He  made  no  response. 

Supper  was  eaten  in  silence.  Even  Winthrope's 
presence  would  have  been  a  relief  to  the  girl ;  yet 
she  could  not  go  to  waken  him,  or  even  suggest 
that  her  companion  do  so.  Blake  sat  throughout 
the  meal  sullen  and  stolid,  and  carefully  avoided 
meeting  her  gaze.  Before  they  had  finished,  twi 
light  had  come  and  gone,  and  night  was  upon 
them.  Yet  she  lingered  for  a  last  attempt. 

"  Good-night,  friend  !  "  she  whispered. 
[  236  ] 


AN     OMINOUS     LULL 

He  sprang  up  as  though  she  had  struck  him, 
and  blundered  away  into  the  darkness. 

In  the  morning  it  was  as  before.  He  had  gone 
off  before  she  wakened.  She  lingered  over  break 
fast;  but  he  did  not  appear,  and  she  could  not 
endure  Winthrope's  suave  drawl.  She  went  for 
another  day  on  the  headland. 

She  returned  somewhat  earlier  than  on  the  pre 
vious  day.  As  before,  Winthrope  was  dozing  in 
the  shade.  But  Blake  was  under  the  baobab,  rak 
ing  together  a  heap  of  rubbish.  His  hands  were 
scratched  and  bleeding.  To  the  girl's  surprise,  he 
met  her  with  a  cheerful  grin  and  a  clear,  direct 
glance. 

"  Look  here,"  he  called. 

She  stepped  around  the  baobab,  and  stood 
staring.  The  entrance,  from  the  ground  to  the 
height  of  twelve  feet,  was  walled  up  with  a  mass 
of  thorny  branches,  interwoven  with  yet  thornier 
creepers. 

"  How 's  that  for  a  front  door  I  "  he  demanded. 

"Door?" 

"Yes." 

"  But  it 's  so  big.     I  could  never  move  it." 

"A  child  could.  Look."  He  grasped  a  pro 
jecting  handle  near  the  bottom  of  the  thorny  mass. 
The  lower  half  of  the  door  swung  up  and  outward, 
the  upper  half  in  and  downward.  "  See ;  it 's 

[237] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

balanced  on  a  crossbar  in  the  middle.  Come 
on  in." 

She  walked  after  him  in  under  the  now  horizontal 
door.  He  gave  the  inner  end  a  light  upward 
thrust,  and  the  door  swung  back  in  its  vertical 
circle  until  it  again  stood  upright  in  the  opening. 
From  the  inside  the  girl  could  see  the  strong 
framework  to  which  was  lashed  the  facing  of 
thorns.  It  was  made  of  bamboo  and  strong 
pieces  of  branches,  bound  together  with  tough 
creepers. 

"  Pretty  good  grating,  eh  ?  "  remarked  Blake. 
"  When  those  green  creepers  dry,  they  '11  shrink 
and  hold  tight  as  iron  clamps.  Even  now  noth 
ing  short  of  a  rhinoceros  could  walk  through 
when  the  bars  are  fast.  See  "here." 

He  stepped  up  to  the  novel  door,  and  slid 
several  socketed  crossbars  until  their  outer  ends 
were  deep  in  the  holes  in  the  tree  trunk,  three 
on  each  side. 

"  How 's  that  for  a  set  of  bolts  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"Wonderful  !  Really,  you  are  very,  very 
clever !  But  why  should  you  go  to  all  this 
trouble,  when  the  barricade — " 

"  Well,  you  see,  it 's  best  to  be  on  the  safe 
side." 

"  But  it  's  absurd  for  you  to  go  to  all  this 
needless  work.  Not  that  I  do  not  appreciate 

[  238  ] 


AN     OMINOUS     LULL 

your  kind  thought  for  my  safety.  Yet  look  at 
your  hands ! " 

Blake  hastened  to  put  his  bleeding  hands  be 
hind  him. 

"  They  are  no  sight  for  a  lady ! "  he  muttered 
apologetically. 

"  Go  and  wash  them  at  once,  and  I  '11  put  on  a 
dressing." 

Blake  glowed  with  frank  pleasure,  yet  shook 
his  head. 

"  No,  thank  you,  Miss  Jenny.  You  need  n't 
bother.  They  '11  do  all  right." 

"  You  must !     It  would  please  me." 

"Why,  then,  of  course —  But  first,  I  want 
to  make  sure  you  understand  fastening  the  door. 
Try  the  bars  yourself." 

She  obeyed,  sliding  the  bars  in  and  out  until 
he  nodded  his  satisfaction. 

"  Good  !  "  he  said.  "  Now  promise  me  you  '11 
slide  'em  fast  every  night" 

"  If  you  ask  it.     But  why  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  make  perfectly  safe." 

"  Safe  ?     But  am  I  not  secure  with  —  " 

"Look  here,  Miss  Leslie;  I'm  not  going  to 
say  anything  about  anybody." 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  say  no  more,  Mr. 
Blake." 

"That's  right.  But  whatever  happens,  you'll 
[  239  1 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

believe  I  Ve  done  my  best,  won't  you  ?  —  even  if 
I  'm  not  a —  Promise  me  straight,  you  '11  lock  up 
tight  every  night." 

"Very  well,  I  promise,"  responded  the  girl, 
not  a  little  troubled  by  the  strangeness  of  his 
expression. 

He  turned  at  once,  swung  open  the  door,  and 
went  out.  During  supper  he  was  markedly  taci 
turn,  and  immediately  afterwards  went  off  to  his 
bed. 

That  night  Miss  Leslie  dutifully  fastened  her 
self  in  with  all  six  bars.  She  wakened  at  dawn, 
and  hastened  out  to  prepare  Blake's  breakfast, 
but  she  found  herself  too  late.  There  were  evi 
dences  that  he  had  eaten  and  gone  off  before 
dawn.  The  stretching  frame  of  one  of  the  ante 
lope  skins  had  been  moved  around  by  the  fire, 
and  on  the  smooth  inner  surface  of  the  hide  was  a 
laconic  note,  written  with  charcoal  in  a  firm,  bold 
hand :  — 

"Exploring  inland.     Back  by  niglit,  if  can!' 

She  bit  her  lip  in  her  disappointment,  for  she 
had  planned  to  show  him  how  much  she  appre 
ciated  his  absurd  but  well-meant  concern  for  her 
safety.  As  it  was,  he  had  gone  off  without  a 
word,  and  left  her  to  the  questionable  pleasure  of 
a  tete-b-tete  with  Winthrope.  Hoping  to  avoid 
this,  she  hurried  her  preparations  for  a  day  on  the 

[  240  ] 


AN    OMINOUS     LULL 

cliff.  But  before  she  could  get  off,  Winthrope 
sauntered  up,  hiding  his  yawns  behind  a  hand 
which  had  regained  most  of  its  normal  plumpness. 
His  eye  was  at  once  caught  by  the  charcoal 
note. 

"Ah!"  he  drawled;  "really  now,  this  is  too 
kind  of  him  to  give  us  the  pleasure  of  his 
absence  all  day! " 

"Ye-esl"  murmured  Miss  Leslie.  "Permit 
me  to  add  that  you  will  also  have  the  pleasure  of 
my  absence.  I  am  going  now." 

Winthrope  looked  down,  and  began  to  speak 
very  rapidly :  "  Miss  Genevieve,  I  —  I  wish  to 
apologize.  I  Ve  thought  it  over.  I  Ve  made  a 
mistake  —  I  —  I  mean,  my  conduct  the  other 
day  was  vile,  utterly  vile  !  Permit  me  to  appeal 
to  your  considerateness  for  a  man  who  has  been 
unfortunate  —  who,  I  mean,  has  been  —  er —  was 
carried  away  by  his  feelings.  Your  favoring  of 
that  bloom — er  —  that —  er  —  bounder  so  angered 
me  that  I  —  that  I  —  " 

"  Mr.  Winthrope  !  "  interrupted  the  girl,  "  I  will 
have  you  to  understand  that  you  do  not  advance 
yourself  in  my  esteem  by  such  references  to  Mr. 
Blake." 

"Aye!   aye,  that  Blake!"  panted  Winthrope. 
"  Don't  you  see  ?      It 's  'im,  an'  that  blossom  ! 
Wen  a  man  's  daffy  —  w'en  'e  's  in  love  !  —  " 
16  [  241 J 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Miss  Leslie  burst  into  a  nervous  laugh;  but 
checked  herself  on  the  instant. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Winthrope  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "you 
must  pardon  me.  I  —  I  never  knew  that  cultured 
Englishmen  ever  dropped  their  h's.  As  it  hap 
pens,  you  know,  I  never  saw  one  excited  before 
this." 

"  Ah,  yes ;  to  be  sure  —  to  be  sure ! "  murmured 
Winthrope,  in  an  odd  tone. 

The  girl  threw  out  her  hand  in  a  little  gesture 
of  protest. 

"  Really,  I  'm  sorry  to  have  hurt  —  to  have  been 
so  thoughtless ! " 

Winthrope  stood  silent.  She  spoke  again  :  "  I  '11 
do  what  you  ask.  I  '11  make  allowances  for  your 
—  for  your  feelings  towards  me,  and  will  try  to 
forget  all  you  said  the  other  day.  Let  me  begin 
by  asking  a  favor  of  you." 

"  Ah,  Miss  Genevieve,  anything,  to  be  sure,  that 
I  may  do  !  " 

"It  is  that  I  wish  your  opinion.  When  Mr. 
Blake  finished  that  absurd  door  last  evening,  he 
would  not  tell  me  why  he  had  built  it  —  only  a 
vague  statement  about  my  safety." 

"  Ah  !  He  did  not  go  into  particulars  ?  " 
drawled  Winthrope. 

"  No,  not  even  a  hint;  and  he  looked  so — • 
odd." 

[242] 


AN     OMINOUS     LULL 

Winthrope  slowly  rubbed  his  soft  palms  one 
upon  the  other. 

"  Do  you  —  er  —  really  desire  to  know  his 
—  the  motive  which  actuated  him  1 "  he  mur 
mured. 

"  I  should  not  have  mentioned  it  to  you,  if  I 
did  not,"  she  answered. 

"Well  —  er — "  He  hesitated  and  paused  for 
a  full  minute.  "  You  see,  it  is  a  rather  difficult 
undertaking  to  intimate  such  a  matter  to  a  lady 
— just  the  right  touch  of  delicacy,  you  know. 
But  I  will  begin  by  explaining  that  I  have  known 
it  since  the  first  —  " 

"  Known  what  ?  " 

"Of  that  bound  — of— er  — Blake's  trouble." 

"Trouble!" 

"  Ah  !  Perhaps  I  should  have  said  affliction ; 
yes,  that  is  the  better  word.  To  own  the  truth, 
the  fellow  has  some  good  qualities.  It  was  no 
doubt  because  he  realized,  when  in  his  better 
moments  —  " 

"  Better  moments  ?  Mr.  Winthrope,  I  am  not 
a  child.  In  justice  both  to  myself  and  to  Mr. 
Blake,  I  must  ask  you  to  speak  out  plainly." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Leslie,  may  I  first  ask  if  you 
have  not  observed  how  strangely  at  times  the  fel 
low  acts,  —  '  looks  odd,'  as  you  put  it,  —  how  he 
falls  into  melancholia  or  senseless  rages  ?  I  may 

[243  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

truthfully  state  that  he  has  three  times  threatened 
my  life." 

"I  —  I  thought  his  anger  quite  natural,  after  I 
had  so  rudely  —  and  so  many  people  are  given  to 
brooding —  But  if  he  was  violent  to  you  —  " 

"  My  dear  Miss  Genevieve,  I  hold  nothing 
against  the  miserable  fellow.  At  such  times  he  is 
not  —  er  —  responsible,  you  know.  Let  us  give 
the  fellow  full  credit  —  that  is  why  he  himself 
built  your  door." 

"Oh,  but  I  can't  believe  it!  I  can't  believe 
it !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  It 's  not  possible  !  He 's  so 
strong,  so  true  and  manly,  so  kind,  for  all  his 
gruffness ! " 

"  Ah,  my  dear !  "  soothed  Winthrope,  "  that  is 
the  pity  of  it.  But  when  a  man  must  needs  be 
his  worst  enemy,  when  he  must  needs  lead  a  cer 
tain  kind  of  life,  he  must  take  the  consequences. 
To  put  it  as  delicately  as  possible,  yet  explain  all, 
I  need  only  say  one  word  —  paranoia." 

Miss  Leslie  gathered  up  her  day's  outfit  with 
trembling  fingers,  and  went  to  mount  the  cliff. 

After  waiting  a  few  minutes  Winthrope  walked 
hurriedly  through  the  cleft,  and  climbed  the  tree- 
ladder  with  an  agility  that  would  have  amazed 
his  companions.  But  he  did  not  draw  himself  up 
on  the  cliff.  Having  satisfied  himself  that  Miss 
Leslie  was  well  out  toward  the  signal,  he  returned 

[244] 


AN     OMINOUS     LULL 

to  the  baobab,  and  proceeded  to  examine  Blake's 
door  with  minute  scrutiny. 

That  evening,  shortly  before  dark,  Blake  came 
in  almost  exhausted  by  his  journey.  Few  men 
could  have  covered  the  same  ground  in  twice  the 
time.  It  had  been  one  continuous  round  of  grass 
jungle,  thorn  scrub,  rocks,  and  swamp.  And  for 
all  his  pains,  he  brought  back  with  him  nothing 
more  than  the  discouraging  information  that  the 
back-country  was  worse  than  the  shore.  Yet 
he  betrayed  no  trace  of  depression  over  the 
bad  news,  and  for  all  his  fatigue,  maintained  a 
tone  of  hearty  cheerfulness  until,  having  eaten 
his  fill,  he  suddenly  observed  Miss  Leslie's  frigid 
politeness. 

"  What 's  up  now "?  "  he  demanded.  "  You  're 
not  mad  'cause  I  hiked  off  this  morning  without 
notice  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not,  Mr.  Blake.  Nothing  of 
the  kind.  But  I  —  " 

"Well,  what!"  he  broke  in,  as  she  hesitated. 
"  I  can't,  for  the  world,  think  of  anything  else 
I  've  done  —  " 

"  You  've  done  !  Perhaps  I  might  suggest  that 
it  is  a  question  of  what  you  haven't  done."  The 
girl  was  trembling  on  the  verge  of  hysterics. 
"  Yes,  what  you've  not  done!  All  these  weeks, 
and  not  a  single  attempt  to  get  us  away  from  here, 

[245] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

except  that  miserable  signal ;  and  I  as  good  as 
put  that  up !  You  call  yourself  a  man !  But  I 
-  I  —  "  She  stopped  short,  white  with  a  sudden 
overpowering  fear. 

Winthrope  looked  from  her  to  Blake  with 
a  sidelong  glance,  his  lips  drawn  up  in  an  odd 
twist. 

There  followed  several  moments  of  tense 
silence ;  then  Blake  mumbled  apologetically : 
"  Well,  I  suppose  I  might  have  done  more.  I 
was  so  dead  anxious  to  make  sure  of  food  and 
shelter.  But  this  trip  to-day  —  " 

"  Mr.  —  Mr.  Blake,  pray  do  not  get  excited  — 
I  —  I  mean,  please  excuse  me.  I  'm  —  " 

"  You  're  coming  down  sick  !  "  he  said. 

"  No,  no  !     I  have  no  fever." 

"  Then  it 's  the  sun.  Yet  you  ought  to  keep  up 
there  where  the  air  is  freshest.  I'll  make  you 
a  shade." 

She  protested,  and  withdrew,  somewhat  hur 
riedly,  to  her  tree. 

In  the  morning  Blake  was  gone  again ;  but  in 
stead  of  a  note,  beside  the  fire  stood  the  smaller 
antelope  skin,  converted  into  a  great  bamboo- 
ribbed  sunshade. 

She  spent  the  day  as  usual  on  the  headland. 
There  was  no  wind,  and  the  sun  was  scorching 
hot.  But  with  her  big  sunshade  to  protect  her 

[246] 


AN     OMINOUS     LULL 

from  the  direct  rays,  the  heat  was  at  least  endura 
ble.  She  even  found  energy  to  work  at  a  basket 
which  she  was  attempting  to  weave  out  of  long, 
coarse  grass ;  yet  there  were  frequent  intervals 
when  her  hands  sank  idle  in  her  lap,  and  she 
gazed  away  over  the  shimmering  glassy  expanse 
of  the  ocean. 

In  the  afternoon  the  heat  became  oppressively 
sultry,  and  a  long  slow  swell  began  to  roll  shore 
ward  from  beyond  the  distant  horizon,  showing  no 
trace  of  white  along  its  oily  crests  until  they  broke 
over  the  coral  reefs.  There  was  not  a  breath  of 
air  stirring,  and  for  a  time  the  reefs  so  checked 
the  rollers  that  they  lacked  force  to  drive  on  in 
and  break  upon  the  beach. 

Steadily,  however,  the  swell  grew  heavier, 
though  not  so  much  as  a  cat's-paw  ruffled  the 
dead  surfaces  of  the  watery  hillocks.  By  sunset 
they  were  rolling  high  over  both  lines  of  reefs 
and  racing  shoreward  to  break  upon  the  beach 
and  the  cliff  foot  in  furious  surf.  The  still  air  re 
verberated  with  the  booming  of  the  breakers. 
Yet  the  girl,  inland  bred  and  unversed  in  weather 
lore,  sat  heedless  and  indifferent,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  horizon  in  a  vacant  stare. 

Her  reverie  was  at  last  disturbed  by  the  pecu 
liar  behavior  of  the  seafowl.  Those  in  the  air 
circled  around  in  a  manner  strange  to  her,  while 

[247] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

their  mates  on  the  ledges  waddled  restlessly  about 
over  and  between  their  nests.  There  was  a 
shriller  note  than  usual  in  their  discordant 
clamor. 

Yet  even  when  she  gave  heed  to  the  birds,  the 
girl  failed  to  realize  their  alarm  or  to  sense  the 
impending  danger.  It  was  only  that  a  feeling  of 
disquiet  had  broken  the  spell  of  her  reverie ;  it  did 
not  obtrude  upon  the  field  of  her  conscious  thought. 
She  sighed,  and  rose  to  return  to  the  cleft,  idly 
wondering  that  the  air  should  seem  more  sultry 
than  at  mid-day.  The  peculiar  appearance  of  the 
sun  and  the  western  sky  meant  nothing  more  to 
her  than  an  odd  effect  of  color  and  light.  She 
smilingly  compared  it  with  an  attempt  at  a  sun 
set  painted  by  an  artist  friend  of  the  impressionist 
school. 

Neither  Winthrope  nor  Blake  was  in  sight  when 
she  reached  the  baobab,  and  neither  appeared, 
though  she  delayed  supper  until  dark.  It  was  quite 
possible  that  they  had  eaten  before  her  return  and 
had  gone  off  again,  the  Englishman  to  doze,  and 
Blake  on  an  evening  hunt. 

At  last,  tired  of  waiting,  she  covered  the  fire, 
and  retired  into  her  tree-cave.  The  air  in  the  cleft 
was  still  more  stifling  than  on  the  headland.  She 
paused,  with  her  hand  upraised  to  close  the  swing 
ing  door.  She  had  propped  it  open  when  she  came 

[248] 


AN     OMINOUS    LULL 

out  in  the  morning.  After  a  moment's  hesitation, 
she  went  on  across  the  hollow,  leaving  the  door 
wide  open. 

"  I  will  rest  a  little,  and  close  it  later,"  she 
sighed.  She  was  feeling  weary  and  depressed. 

An  hour  passed.  An  ominous  stillness  lay 
upon  the  cleft.  Even  the  cicadas  had  hushed 
their  shrill  note.  The  only  sound  was  a  muffled 
reverberating  echo  of  the  surf  roaring  upon  the 
seashore.  Beneath  the  giant  spread  of  the  bao 
bab  all  was  blackness. 

Something  moved  in  a  bush  a  little  way  down 
the  cleft.  A  crouching  figure  appeared,  dimly 
outlined  in  the  starlight.  The  figure  crept  stealth 
ily  across  into  the  denser  night  of  the  baobab. 
The  darkness  closed  about  it  like  a  shroud. 

A  blinding  flash  of  light  pierced  the  blackness. 
The  figure  halted  and  crouched  lower,  though  the 
flash  had  gone  again  in  a  fraction  of  a  second.  A 
dull  rumbling  mingled  with  the  ceaseless  boom  of 
the  surf. 

A  second  flash  lighted  the  cleft  with  its  dazzling 
coruscation.  This  time  the  creeping  figure  did 
not  halt. 

Again  and  again  the  forked  lightning  streaked 
across  the  sky,  every  stroke  more  vivid  than  the 
one  before.  The  rumble  of  the  distant  thunder 
deepened  to  a  heavy  rolling  which  dominated  the 

[  249] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

dull  roar  of  the  breakers.  The  storm  was  com 
ing  with  the  on-rush  of  a  tornado.  Yet  the  leaves 
hung  motionless  in  the  still  air,  and  there  was  no 
sound  other  than  the  thunder  and  the  booming 
of  the  surf. 

The  lightning  flared,  one  stroke  upon  the  other, 
with  a  brilliancy  that  lit  up  the  cave's  interior 
brighter  than  at  mid-day. 

In  the  white  glare  the  girl  saw  Winthrope, 
crouched  beneath  her  upswung  door;  and  his 
face  was  as  the  face  of  a  beast. 


[250] 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  HURRICANE  BLAST 

FOR  a  moment  that  seemed  a  moment  of 
eternity,  she  lay  on  her  bed,  staring  into 
the  blank  darkness.  The  storm  burst 
with  a  crashing-  uproar  that  brought  her  to  her 
feet,  with  a  shriek.  Her  giant  tree  creaked  and 
strained  under  the  impact  of  the  terrific  hurricane 
blasts  that  came  howling  through  the  cleft  like 
a  rout  of  shrieking  fiends.  The  peals  of  thunder 
merged  into  one  continuous  roar,  beneath  which 
the  solid  ledges  of  rock  jarred  and  quivered. 
The  sky  was  a  pall  of  black  clouds,  meshed 
with  a  dazzling  network  of  forked  lightning. 

The  girl  stood  motionless,  stunned  by  the  up 
roar,  appalled  by  the  blinding  glare  of  the  thun 
der-bolts  ;  yet  even  more  fearful  of  the  figure 
which  every  flash  showed  her  still  lurking  be 
neath  the  door.  A  gust-borne  bough  struck  with 
numbing  force  against  her  upraised  arm.  But 
she  took  no  heed.  She  was  unaware  of  the  swirl 
of  rain  and  sticks  and  leaves  that  was  driving  in 
through  the  open  entrance. 

[251] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

On  a  sudden  the  door  shook  free  from  its  props 
and  whirled  violently  around  on  its  balance-bar. 
There  was  a  shriek  that  pierced  above  the  shrill 
ing  of  the  cyclone,  —  a  single  human  shriek. 

The  girl  sprang  across  the  cave.  The  heavy 
door  swished  up  before  her  and  down  again,  its 
lower  edge  all  but  grazing  her  face.  For  a  mo 
ment  it  stopped  in  a  vertical  position,  and  hung 
quivering,  like  a  beast  about  to  leap  upon  its 
prey.  Too  excited  to  comprehend  the  danger  of 
the  act,  the  girl  sprang  forward  and  shot  one 
of  the  thick  bars  into  its  socket. 

A  fierce  gust  leaped  against  the  outer  face  of 
the  door  and  thrust  in  upon  it,  striving  to  burst  it 
bodily  from  its  bearings.  The  top  and  the  free 
side  of  the  bottom  bowed  in.  But  the  branches 
were  still  green  and  tough,  the  bamboo  like 
whalebone,  and  the  shrunken  creepers  held  the 
frame  together  as  though  the  joints  were  lashed 
with  wire  rope.  Failing  to  smash  in  the  elastic 
structure,  or  to  snap  the  crossbar,  it  were  as  if 
the  blast  flung  itself  alternately  against  the  top 
and  bottom  in  a  fierce  attempt  to  again  whirl 
the  frame  about.  The  white  glare  streaming  in 
through  the  interstices  showed  the  girl  her  oppor 
tunity.  She  grasped  another  bar  and  shot  it  into 
its  socket  as  the  lower  part  of  the  door  gave  back 
with  the  shifting  of  the  pressure  to  the  top.  It 

[252] 


THE     HURRICANE    BLAST 

was  then  a  simple  matter  to  slide  the  remaining 
bars  into  the  deep-sunk  holes.  Within  half  a 
minute  she  had  made  the  door  fast,  from  the 
first  bar  to  the  sixth. 

A  heavy  spray  was  beating  in  upon  her  through 
the  chinks  of  the  framework.  She  drew  back  and 
sought  shelter  in  a  niche  at  the  side.  Narrow  as 
was  the  slit  above  the  top  of  the  door,  it  let  in  a 
torrent  of  water,  which  spouted  clear  across  and 
against  the  far  wall  of  the  cave.  It  gushed  down 
upon  her  bed  and  was  already  flooding  the  cave 
floor. 

She  piled  higher  the  cocoanuts  stored  in  her 
niche,  and  perched  herself  upon  the  heap  to  keep 
above  the  water.  But  even  in  her  sheltered  cor 
ner  the  eddying  wind  showered  her  with  spray. 
She  waded  across  for  her  skin-covered  sunshade, 
and  returned  to  huddle  beneath  it,  in  the  still 
misery  and  terror  of  a  hunted  animal  that  has 
crept  wounded  into  a  hole. 

During  the  first  hurricane  there  had  been  com 
panions  to  whom  she  could  look  for  help  and 
comfort,  and  she  had  been  to  a  degree  unaware 
of  the  greatness  of  the  danger.  But  in  the  few 
short  weeks  since,  she  had  caught  more  than  one 
glimpse  of  Primeval  Nature,  —  she  of  the  bloody 
fang,  blind,  remorseless,  insensate,  destroying, 
ever  destroying. 

[253] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

True,  this  was  on  solid  land,  while  before  there 
had  been  the  peril  of  the  sea.  But  now  the  girl 
was  alone.  Outside  the  straining  walls  of  her 
refuge,  the  hurricane  yelled  and  shrieked  and 
roared,  —  a  headless,  formless  monster,  furious  to 
burst  in  upon  her,  to  overthrow  her  stanch  old 
tree  giant,  that  in  his  fall  his  shattered  trunk 
might  crush  and  mangle  her.  Or  at  any  instant 
a  thunder-bolt  might  rend  open  the  great  tower 
of  living  wood,  and  hurl  her  blackened  body  into 
the  pool  on  the  cave  floor. 

Once  she  fancied  that  she  heard  Blake  shouting 
outside  the  door ;  but  when  she  screamed  a  shrill 
response,  the  blast  mocked  her  with  echoing 
shrieks,  and  she  dared  not  venture  to  free  the 
door.  If  it  were  Blake,  he  did  not  shout  again. 
After  a  time  she  began  to  think  that  the  sound 
had  been  no  more  than  a  freak  of  the  shifting 
wind.  Yet  the  thought  of  him  out  in  the  full 
fury  of  the  cyclone  served  to  turn  her  thoughts 
from  her  own  danger.  She  prayed  aloud  for  his 
safety,  beseeching  her  God  that  he  be  spared. 
She  sought  to  pray  even  for  Winthrope.  But 
the  vision  of  that  beastly  face  rose  up  before  her, 
and  she  could  not  —  then. 

Presently  she  became  aware  of  a  change  in  the 
storm.  The  terrific  gusts  blew  with  yet  greater  vio 
lence,  the  thunder  crashed  heavier,  the  lightning 

[254] 


THE     HURRICANE     BLAST 

filled  the  air  with  a  flame  of  dazzling  white 
light.  But  the  rain  no  longer  gushed  across  on 
the  spot  where  her  bed  had  been.  It  was  enter 
ing  at  a  different  angle,  and  its  force  was  broken 
by  the  bend  in  the  thick  wall  of  the  entrance. 
After  a  time  the  deluge  dashed  aslant  the  en 
trance,  gushing  down  the  door  in  a  cataract  of 
foam. 

Another  interval,  and  the  driving  downpour  no 
longer  struck  even  the  edge  of  the  opening.  The 
wind  was  veering  rapidly  as  the  cyclone  centre 
moved  past  on  one  side.  The  area  of  the  hurri 
cane  was  little  more  than  thrice  that  of  a  tornado, 
and  it  was  advancing  along  its  course  at  great 
speed.  An  hour  more,  and  the  outermost  rim  of 
the  huge  whirl  was  passing  over  the  cleft. 

Quickly  the  hurricane  gusts  fell  away  to  a 
gale ;  the  gale  became  a  breeze ;  the  breeze  lulled 
and  died  away,  stifled  by  the  torrential  rain. 

Within  the  baobab  all  was  again  dark  and  si 
lent.  Utterly  exhausted,  the  girl  had  sunk  back 
against  the  friendly  wall  of  the  tree,  and  fallen 
asleep. 

She  was  wakened  by  a  hoarse  call :  "  Miss 
Jenny  !  Miss  Jenny,  answer  me  !  Are  you  all 
right!" 

She  started  up,  barely  saving  herself  from  a 
fall  as  the  big  unhusked  nuts  rolled  beneath  her 

[255] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

feet.  The  morning  sunlight  was  streaming  in  over 
her  door.  She  sprang  down  ankle-deep  into  the 
mire  of  the  cave  floor,  and  ran  to  loosen  the  bars. 
As  the  door  swung  up,  she  darted  out,  with  a  cry 
of  delight :  "  You  are  safe  —  safe  !  Oh,  I  was  so 
afraid  for  you  !  But  you  're  drenched  !  You 
must  build  a  fire  —  dry  yourself  —  at  once  !  " 

"Wait,"  said  Blake.  "I've  got  to  tell  you 
something." 

He  caught  her  outstretched  hands,  and  pushed 
them  down  with  gentle  force.  His  face  was  grave, 
almost  solemn. 

"  Think  you  can  stand  bad  news  —  a  shock  $  " 

"I  —     What  is  it  ?     You  look  so  strange  ! " 

"  It  's  about  Winthrope,  —  something  very 
bad—" 

She  turned,  with  a  gasp,  and  hid  her  face  in 
her  hands,  shuddering  with  horror  and  loathing. 

"Oh!  oh!"  she  cried,  "I  know  already  —  I 
know  all ! " 

"  All  I  "  demanded  Blake,  staring  blankly. 

"Yes;  all!  And  —  and  he  made  me  think  it 
was  you !  "  She  gasped,  and  fell  silent. 

Blake's  face  went  white.  He  spoke  in  a  clear, 
vibrant  voice,  tense  as  an  overstrained  violin 
string:  "I  am  speaking  about  Winthrope — un 
derstand  me  ?  —  Winthrope.  He  has  been  badly 
hurt." 

[256] 


THE     HURRICANE    BLAST 

"  The  door  swung  down  and  struck  him,  when 
he  was  creeping  in." 

"  God  !  "  roared  Blake.  "  I  picked  him  up 
like  a  sick  baby  —  the  beast !  —  'stead  of  grind 
ing  my  heel  in  his  face  !  God  !  I  '11  —  " 

"  Tom  !  don't  —  don't  even  speak  it !     Tom  !  " 

"God!  When  a  helpless  girl  —  when  a — !" 
He  choked,  beside  himself  with  rage. 

She  sprang  to  him,  and  caught  his  sleeve  in  a 
convulsive  grasp.  "  Hush,  for  mercy's  sake ! 
Tom  Blake,  remember  —  you  're  a  man  !  " 

He  calmed  like  a  ferocious  dog  at  the  voice 
of  its  master ;  but  it  was  several  minutes  be 
fore  he  could  bring  himself  to  obey  her  insist 
ent  urging  that  he  should  return  to  the  injured 
man. 

"  I  '11  go,"  he  at  last  growled.  "  Would  n't  do 
it  even  for  you,  but  he's  good  as  dead  —  lucky 
for  him ! " 

"Dead!" 

"  Dying You  stay  away." 

He  went  around  the  baobab  and  a  few  paces 
along  the  cleft  to  the  place  where  a  limp  form 
lay  huddled  on  the  ledges,  out  of  the  mud. 
Slowly,  as  though  drawn  by  the  fascination  of 
horror,  the  girl  crept  after  him.  When  she  saw 
the  broken,  storm-beaten  thing  that  had  been 
Winthrope,  she  stopped,  and  would  have  turned 
17  [  257  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

back.      After   all,    as   Blake    had   said,   he   was 
dying  — 

When  she  stood  at  the  feet  of  the  writhing 
figure,  and  looked  down  into  the  battered  face, 
it  required  all  her  will-power  to  keep  from  faint 
ing.  Blake  frowned  up  at  her  for  an  instant,  but 
said  nothing. 

Winthrope  was  speaking,  feebly  and  brokenly, 
yet  distinctly :  "  Really,  I  did  not  mean  any 
harm  —  at  first  —  you  know.  But  a  man  does 
not  always  have  control  —  " 

"  Not  a  beast  like  you  !  "  growled  Blake. 

"Ow!  Don't  'it  me!  I  say  now,  I'm  done 
for  !  My  legs  are  cold  already  —  " 

"  Oh,  quick,  Mr.  Blake  !  build  a  fire  !  It  may 
be,  some  hot  broth  —  " 

"  Too  late,"  muttered  Blake.  "  See  here,  Win 
thrope,  there  's  no  use  lying  about  it.  You  're  going 
out  mighty  soon.  See  if  you  can't  die  like  a  man." 

"Die!  .  .  .  Gawd,  but  I  can't  die  —  I  can't 
die  —  Ow  !  it  burns  !  " 

He  flung  up  a  hand,  and  sought  to  tear  at  his 
wounds. 

"  Hold  hard  !  "  cried  Blake,  catching  the  hand 
in  an  iron  grip. 

Something  in  his  touch,  or  the  tone  of  com 
mand,  seemed  to  cower  the  wretched  man  into  a 
state  of  abject  submission. 

[258] 


THE     HURRICANE    BLAST 

"S'elp  me,  I'll  confess !  — I '11  confess  all!" 
he  babbled.  "The  stones  are  sewed  in  the 
stomach  pad ;  I  'ad  to  take  'em  hout  of  their  set 
tings,  and  melt  up  the  gold."  He  paused,  and  a 
cunning  smile  stole  over  his  distorted  features. 
"  Ho,  wot  a  bloomin'  lark  !  Valet  plays  the  gent, 
an'  they  never  'as  a  hinkling !  Mr.  Cecil  Win- 
thrope,  hif  you  please,  an'  a  'int  of  a  title  —  wot 
a  lark  !  'Awkings,  me  lad,  you  're  a  gay  'oaxer ! 
Wot  a  lark  !  wot  a  lark  !  " 

Again  there  was  a  pause.  The  breath  of  the 
wounded  man  came  in  labored  gasps.  There 
was  an  ominous  rattling  in  his  throat.  Yet  once 
again  he  rallied,  and  this  time  his  eyes  turned  to 
Miss  Leslie,  bright  with  an  agonized  conscious 
ness  of  her  presence  and  of  all  his  guilt  and 
shame. 

His  voice  shrilled  out  in  quavering  appeal : 
"Don't  —  don't  look  at  me,  miss!  I  tried  to 
make  myself  a  gentleman ;  God  knows  I  tried ! 
I  fought  my  way  up  out  of  the  East  End  —  out 
of  that  hell  —  and  none  ever  lifted  finger  to  help 
me.  I  educated  myself  like  a  scholar  —  then  the 
stock  sharks  cheated  me  of  my  savings  —  out  of 
the  last  penny ;  and  I  had  to  take  service.  My 
God !  a  valet  —  his  Grace's  valet,  and  I  a 
scholar !  Do  you  wonder  the  devil  got  into  me  ? 
Do  you  —  " 

[  259  ] 


INTO     THE    PRIMITIVE 

Blake's  deep  voice,  firm  but  strangely  husky, 
broke  in  upon  and  silenced  the  cry  of  agony: 
"  There,  I  guess  you  've  said  enough." 

"  Enough  !  —  and  last  night  —  My  God  !  to  be 
such  a  beast !  The  devil  tempted  me  —  aye,  and 
he 's  paid  me  out  in  my  own  coin  !  I  'm  done  for ! 
God  ha'  mercy  on  me  !  —  God  ha'  mercy  —  " 

Again  came  the  gasping  rattle ;  this  time  there 
was  no  rally. 

Blake  thrust  himself  between  Miss  Leslie  and 
the  crumpled  figure. 

"  Get  back  around  the  tree,"  he  said  harshly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  I " 

"  That 's  my  business,"  he  replied.  He  thrust 
his  burning-glass  into  her  hand.  "Here;  go 
and  build  a  fire,  if  you  can  find  any  dry  stuff." 

"  You  're  not  going  to  —     You  '11  bury  him  !  " 

"  Yes.  Whatever  he  may  have  been,  he 's  dead 
now,  poor  devil !  " 

"  I  can't  go,"  she  half  whispered,  "  not  until  — 
until  I  Ve  learned  —  Do  you  —  can  you  tell  me 
just  what  is  paranoia! " 

Blake  studied  a  little,  and  tapped  the  top  of 
his  head. 

"  Near  as  I  can  say,  it 's  softening  of  the  brain 
—  up  there." 

"  Do  you  think  that  —  "  she  hesitated  —  "  that 
he  had  it?" 

[  260] 


THE    HURRICANE    BLAST 

Again  Blake  paused  to  consider. 

"  Well,  I  'm  no  alienist.  I  thought  him  a  softy 
from  the  first.  But  that  was  all  in  line  with  what 
he  was  playing  on  us  —  British  dude.  Fooled 
me,  and  I'd  been  chumming  with  Jimmy  Scar- 
bridge,  —  and  Jimmy  was  the  straight  goods, 
fresh  imported  —  monocle  even  —  when  I  first 
ran  up  against  him.  No;  this  —  this  Hawkins, 
if  that's  his  name,  had  brains  all  right.  Still, 
he  may  have  been  cracked.  When  folks  go 
dotty,  they  sometimes  get  extra  'cute.  The  best 
I  can  think  of  him  is  that  losing  his  savings  may 
have  made  him  slip  a  cog,  and  then  the  scare 
over  the  way  we  landed  here  and  his  spells  of 
fever  probably  hurried  up  the  softening." 

"  Then  you  believe  his  story  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.     But  if  you  '11  go,  please." 

"  One  thing  more  —  I  must  know  now !  Do 
you  remember  the  day  when  you  set  up  the 
signal,  and  you  —  you  quarrelled  with  him  !  " 

Blake  reddened,  and  dropped  his  gaze.  "  Did 
he  go  and  tell  you  that  I  The  sneak !  " 

"  If  you  please,  let  us  say  nothing  more  about 
him.  But  would  you  care  to  tell  me  what  you 
meant  —  what  you  said  then  !  " 

Blake's  flush  deepened ;  but  he  raised  his  head, 
and  faced  her  squarely  as  he  answered :  "  No ; 
I'm  not  going  to  repeat  any  dead  man's  talk; 

[261] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

and  as  for  what  I  said,  this  isn't  the  time  or 
place  to  say  anything-  in  that  line  —  now  that 
we're  alone.  Understand?" 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  do  not,  Mr.  Blake.  Please 
explain." 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Miss  Jenny.  I  can't  tell  you 
now.  You  '11  have  to  wait  till  we  get  aboard 
ship.  We  '11  catch  a  steamer  before  long.  'T  is  n't 
every  one  of  them  that  goes  ashore  in  these 
blows." 

"Why  did  you  build  that  door!  Did  you 
suspect  — "  She  glanced  down  at  the  huddled 
figure  between  them. 

Blake  frowned  and  hesitated;  then  burst  out 
almost  angrily  :  "  Well,  you  know  now  he  was  a 
sneak ;  so  it 's  not  blabbing  to  tell  that  much  —  I 
knew  he  was  before  ;  and  it 's  never  safe  to  trust 
a  sneak." 

"  Thank  you !  "  she  said,  and  she  turned  away 
quickly  that  she  might  not  again  look  at  the 
prostrate  figure. 


[  262] 


CHAPTER   XXI 
WRECKAGE  AND   SALVAGE 

AL  the  wood  in  the  cleft  was  sodden  from 
the  fierce  downpour  that  had  accom 
panied  the  cyclone ;  all  the  cleft  bottom 
other  than  the  bare  ledges  was  a  bed  of  mud; 
everything  without  the  tree-cave  had  been  either 
blown  away  or  heaped  with  broken  boughs  and 
mud-spattered  rubbish.  But  the  girl  had  far  too 
much  to  think  about  to  feel  any  concern  over  the 
mere  damage  and  destruction  of  things.  It  was 
rather  a  relief  to  find  something  that  called  for 
work. 

Not  being  able  to  find  dry  fuel,  she  gathered  a 
quantity  of  the  least  sodden  of  the  twigs  and 
branches,  and  spread  them  out  on  a  ledge  in  the 
clear  sunshine.  While  her  firewood  was  drying, 
she  scraped  away  the  mud  and  litter  heaped  upon 
her  rude  hearth.  She  then  began  a  search  for 
lost  articles.  When  she  dug  out  the  pottery  ware, 
she  found  her  favorite  stew-pot  and  one  of  the 
platters  in  fragments.  The  drying-frames  for 
the  meat  had  been  blown  away,  and  so  had  the 
antelope  and  hyena  skins. 

[  263  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

Catching  sight  of  a  bit  of  white  down  among 
the  bamboos,  she  went  to  it,  and  was  not  a  little 
surprised  to  see  the  tattered  remnant  of  her  duck 
skirt.  It  had  evidently  been  torn  from  the  signal 
staff  by  the  first  gust  of  the  cyclone,  whirled 
down  into  the  cleft  by  some  flaw  or  eddy  in  the 
wind,  and  wadded  so  tightly  into  the  heart  of  the 
thick  clump  of  stems  that  all  the  fury  of  the  storm 
had  failed  to  dislodge  it.  Its  recovery  seemed  to 
the  girl  a  special  providence ;  for  of  course  they 
must  keep  up  a  signal  on  the  cliff. 

Having  started  her  fire  and  set  on  a  stew,  she 
hunted  out  her  sewing  materials  from  their  crev 
ice  in  the  cave,  and  began  mending  the  slits  in 
the  torn  flag.  While  she  worked  she  sat  on  a 
shaded  ledge,  her  bare  feet  toasting  in  the  sun, 
and  her  soggy,  mud-smeared  moccasins  drying 
within  reach.  When  Blake  appeared,  the  moc 
casins  were  still  where  she  had  first  set  them ; 
but  the  little  pink  feet  were  safely  tucked  up  be 
neath  the  tattered  flag.  Fortunately,  the  sight  of 
the  white  cloth  prevented  Blake  from  noticing 
the  moccasins. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  What 's  that  I  —  the 
flag  1  Say,  that 's  luck !  I  '11  break  out  a  bamboo 
right  off.  Old  staff  's  carried  clean  away." 

"  Mr.  Blake,  — just  a  moment,  please.  What 
have  you  done  with  —  with  it  f  " 

[264] 


WRECKAGE    AND    SALVAGE 

Blake  jerked  his  thumb  upward. 

"  You  have  carried  him  up  on  the  cliff  I " 

"  Best  place  I  could  think  of.     No  animals  — 

and  I  piled  stones  over But,  I  say,  look 

here." 

He  drew  out  a  piece  of  wadded  cloth,  marked 
off  into  little  squares  by  crossing  lines  of  stitches. 
One  of  the  squares  near  the  edge  had  been  ripped 
open.  Blake  thrust  in  his  finger,  and  worked  out 
an  emerald  the  size  of  a  large  pea. 

"  0-h-h ! "  cried  Miss  Leslie,  as  he  held  the 
glittering  gem  out  to  her  in  his  rough  palm. 

He  drew  it  back,  and  carefully  thrust  it  again 
into  its  pocket. 

"  That 's  one,"  he  said.  "  There 's  another  in 
every  square  of  this  innocent,  harmless  rag  — 
dozens  of  them.  He  must  have  made  a  clean 
sweep  of  the  duke's  —  or,  more  like,  the  duchess's 
jewels.  Now,  if  you  please,  I  want  you  to  sew 
this  up  tight  again,  and  —  " 

"  I  cannot  —  I  cannot  touch  it !  "  she  cried. 

"  Say,  I  did  n't  mean  to  —  It  was  confounded 
stupid  of  me,"  mumbled  Blake.  "Won't  you 
excuse  me  !  " 

"  Of  course  !  It  was  only  the  —  the  thought 
that  —  " 

"No  wonder.  I  always  am  a  fool  when  it 
comes  to  ladies.  I'll  fix  the  thing  all  right." 

[265  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Catching  up  the  nearest  small  pot,  he  crammed 
the  quilted  cloth  down  within  it,  and  filled  it  to 
the  brim  with  sticky  mud. 

"  There !  Guess  nobody 's  going  to  run  off 
with  a  jug  of  mud  —  and  it  won't  hurt  the  stones 
till  we  get  a  chance  to  look  up  the  owner.  He 
won't  be  hard  to  find  —  English  duke  minus  a 
pint  of  first-class  sparklers !  Will  you  mind  its 
setting  in  the  cave  after  things  are  fixed  up  I " 

"  No ;  not  as  it  is." 

He  nodded  soberly.  "All  right,  then.  Now 
I'll  go  for  the  new  flag-staff.  You  might  set  out 
breakfast." 

She  nodded  in  turn,  and  when  he  came  back 
from  the  bamboos  with  the  largest  of  the  great 
canes  on  his  shoulder,  his  breakfast  was  waiting 
for  him.  She  set  it  before  him,  and  turned  to  go 
again  to  her  sewing. 

"  Hold  on,"  he  said.  "  This  won't  do.  You  've 
got  to  eat  your  share." 

"  I  do  not  —  I  am  not  hungry." 

"  That 's  no  matter.     Here  !  " 

He  forced  upon  her  a  bowl  of  hot  broth,  and 
she  drank  it  because  she  could  not  resist  his 
rough  kindness. 

"  Good !     Now  a  piece  of  meat,"  he  said. 

"  Please,  Mr.  Blake  ! "  she  protested. 

"  Yes,  you  must !  " 

[266] 


WRECKAGE     AND    SALVAGE 

She  took  a  bite,  and  sought  to  eat;  but  there 
was  such  a  lump  in  her  throat  that  she  could  not 
swallow.  The  tears  gushed  into  her  eyes,  and 
she  began  to  weep. 

Blake's  close- set  lips  relaxed,  and  he  nodded. 

"  That 's  it ;  let  it  run  out.  You  're  over 
wrought.  There's  nothing  like  a  good  cry  to 
ease  off  a  woman's  nerves  —  and  I  guess  ladies 
are  n't  much  different  from  women  when  it  comes 
to  such  things." 

"  But  I  —  I  want  to  get  the  flag  mended  ! "  she 
sobbed. 

"  All  right,  all  right ;  plenty  of  time ! "  he 
soothed.  "  I  'm  going  to  see  how  things  look 
down  the  cleft." 

He  bolted  the  last  of  his  meat,  and  at  once 
left  her  alone  to  cry  herself  back  to  calmness 
over  the  stitching  of  the  signal. 

His  first  concern  was  for  the  barricade.  As  he 
had  feared,  he  found  that  it  had  been  blown  to 
pieces.  The  greater  part  of  the  thorn  branches 
which  he  had  gathered  with  so  much  labor  were 
scattered  to  the  four  corners  of  the  earth.  He 
stood  staring  at  the  wreckage  in  glum  silence ; 
but  he  did  not  swear,  as  he  would  have  done  the 
week  before.  Presently  his  face  cleared,  and  he 
began  to  whistle  in  a  plaintive  minor  key.  He 
was  thinking  of  how  she  had  looked  when  she 

[  267] 


darted  out  of  the  tree  at  his  call  —  of  her  concern 
for  him.  When  he  was  so  angered  at  Winthrope, 
she  had  called  him  Tom  ! 

After  a  time  he  started  on,  picking  his  way 
over  the  remnant  of  the  barricade,  without  a 
falter  in  his  whistling.  The  deluge  of  rain  had 
poured  down  the  cleft  in  a  torrent,  tearing  away 
the  root-matted  soil  and  laying  bare  the  ledges  in 
the  channel  of  the  spring  rill.  But  aside  from  an 
occasional  boggy  hole,the  water  had  drained  away. 

At  the  foot,  about  the  swollen  pool,  was  a  wide 
stretch  of  rubbish  and  mud.  He  worked  his  way 
around  the  edge,  and  came  out  on  the  plain, 
where  the  sandy  soil  was  all  the  firmer  for  its 
drenching.  He  swung  away  at  a  lively  clip. 
The  air  was  fresh  and  pure  after  the  storm,  and 
a  slight  breeze  tempered  the  sun-rays. 

He  kept  on  along  the  cliff  until  he  turned  the 
point.  It  was  not  altogether  advisable  to  bathe 
at  this  time  of  day ;  but  he  had  been  caught  out 
by  the  cyclone  in  a  corner  of  the  swamp,  across 
the  river,  where  the  soil  was  of  clay.  Only  his 
anxiety  for  Miss  Leslie  had  enabled  him  to  fight 
his  way  out  of  the  all  but  impassable  morass 
which  the  storm  deluge  had  made  of  the  half-dry 
swamp.  At  dawn  he  had  reached  the  river,  and 
swam  across,  reckless  of  the  crocodiles.  The 
turbid  water  of  the  stream  had  rid  him  of  only 

[  268  ] 


WRECKAGE    AND    SALVAGE 

part  of  liis  accumulated  slime  and  ooze.     So  now 

he  washed  out  his  tattered  garments  as  well  as 
he  could  without  soap,  and  while  they  were  dry 
ing  on  the  sun-scorched  rocks,  swam  about  in 
the  clear,  tonic  sea-water,  quite  as  reckless  of  the 
sharks  as  he  had  been  of  the  ugly  crocodiles  in 
the  river. 

For  all  this,  he  was  back  at  the  baobab  before 
Miss  Leslie  had  stitched  up  the  last  slit  in  the 
torn  flag. 

She  looked  up  at  him,  with  a  brave  attempt  at 
a  smile. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  'm  not  much  of  a  needle-woman," 
she  sighed?  "  Look  at  those  stitches  !  " 

"  Don't  fret.  They  '11  hold  all  right,  and 
that 's  what  we  want,"  he  reassured  her.  "  Give 
it  me,  now.  I  've  got  to  get  it  up,  and  hurry 
back  for  a  nap.  No  sleep  last  night  —  I  was  out 
beyond  the  river,  in  the  swamp  —  and  to-night  I  '11 
have  to  go  on  watch.  The  barricade  is  down." 

"  Oh,  that  is  too  bad !  Could  n't  I  take  a  turn 
on  watch  I " 

Blake  shook  his  head.  "  No ;  I  '11  sleep  to 
day,  and  work  rebuilding  the  barricade  to-night. 
Toward  morning  I  might  build  up  the  fire,  and 
take  a  nap." 

He  caught  up  the  flag  and  its  new  staff,  and 
swung  away  through  the  cleft. 

[269] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

He  returned  much  sooner  than  Miss  Leslie  ex 
pected,  and  at  once  began  to  throw  up  a  small 
lean-to  of  bamboos  over  a  ledge  at  the  cliff  foot, 
behind  the  baobab.  The  girl  thought  he  was 
making  himself  a  hut,  in  place  of  the  canopy 
under  which  he  had  slept  before  the  storm,  which, 
like  Winthrope's,  had  been  carried  away.  But 
when  he  stopped  work,  he  laconically  informed 
her  that  all  she  had  to  do  to  complete  her  new 
house  was  to  dry  some  leaves. 

"  But  I  thought  it  was  for  yourself !  "  she  pro 
tested.  "I  will  sleep  inside  the  tree." 

"  Doc  Blake  says  no  !  "  he  rejoined  —  "  not  till 
it 's  dried  out." 

She  glanced  at  his  face,  and  replied,  without 
a  moment's  hesitancy  :  "  Very  well.  I  will  do 
what  you  think  best." 

"  That 's  good,"  he  said,  and  went  at  once  to 
lie  down  for  his  much  needed  sleep. 

He  awoke  just  soon  enough  before  dark  to 
see  the  results  of  her  hard  day's  labor.  All  the 
provisions  stored  in  the  tree  had  been  brought 
out  to  dry,  and  a  great  stack  of  fuel,  ready  for 
burning,  was  piled  up  against  the  baobab ;  while 
all  about  the  tree  the  rubbish  had  been  neatly 
gathered  together  in  heaps.  Blake  looked  his  ad 
miration  for  her  industry.  But  then  his  forehead 
wrinkled. 

[  270] 


WRECKAGE     AND    SALVAGE 

"You  oughtn't  to  Ve  done  so  much,"  he  ad 
monished. 

"  I  '11  show  you  I  can  tote  fair !  "  she  rejoined. 
During  the  afternoon  she  had  called  to  mind  that 
odd  expression  of  a  Southern  girl  chum,  and 
had  been  waiting  her  opportunity  to  banter  him 
with  it. 

He  stared  at  her  open-eyed,  and  laughed. 

"  Say,  Miss  Jenny,  you  'd  better  look  out. 
You  '11  be  speaking  American,  first  thing !  " 

Thereupon,  they  fell  to  chattering  like  children 
out  of  school,  each  happy  to  be  able  to  forget  for 
the  moment  that  broken  figure  up  on  the  cliff  top 
and  the  haunting  fear  of  what  another  day  might 
bring  to  them. 

When  they  had  eaten  their  meal,  both  with  keen 
appetites,  Blake  sprang  up,  with  a  curt  "  Good 
night  !  "  and  swung  off  down  the  cleft.  The  girl 
looked  after  him,  with  a  lingering  smile. 

"I  wish  he  hadn't  rushed  off  so  suddenly," 
she  murmured.  "  I  was  just  going  to  thank  him 
for  —  for  everything  !  " 

The  color  swept  over  her  face  in  a  deep  blush, 
and  she  darted  around  to  her  tiny  hut  as  though 
some  one  might  have  overheard  her  whisper. 

Yet,  after  all,  she  had  said  nothing;  or,  at 
least,  she  had  merely  said  "  everything." 

[271] 


CHAPTER   XXII 
UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

IN  the  morning  she  found  Blake  scraping 
energetically  at  the  inner  surfaces  of  a  pair 
of  raw  hyena  skins. 

"  So  you  've  killed  more  game  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Game  ?  No ;  hyenas.  I  hated  to  waste 
good  poison  on  the  brutes ;  but  nothing  else 
showed  up,  and  I  need  a  new  pair  of  pa — er 
—  trousers." 

"  Was  it  not  dangerous  —  great  beasts  like 
these?" 

"  Not  even  enough  to  make  it  interesting.  I  'd 
have  had  some  fun,  though,  with  that  confounded 
lion  when  the  moon  came  up,  if  he  hadn't 
sneaked  off  into  the  grass." 

«  A  lion  ?  " 

"Yes.  Didn't  you  hear  him?  The  skulk- 
ing  brute  prowled  around  for  hours  before  the 
moon  rose,  when  it  was  pitch  dark.  It  was 
mighty  lonesome,  with  him  yowling  down  by 
the  pool.  Half  a  chance,  and  I  'd  given  him 
•omething  to  yowl  about.  But  it  wasn't  any 

[  272  ] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

use  firing  off  my  arrows  in  the  dark,  and,  as  I 
said,  he  sneaked  off  before  — " 

"  Tom  —  Mr.  Blake  !  —  you  must  not  risk  your 
life ! " 

"Don't  you  worry  about  me.  I  Ve  learned  how 
to  look  out  for  Tom  Blake.  And  you  can  just 
bank  on  it  I  'm  going  to  look  out  for  Miss  Jenny 
Leslie,  too !  .  .  .  .  But  say,  after  breakfast,  sup 
pose  we  take  a  run  out  on  the  cliffs  for  eggs  !  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  any  to-day,  thank  you." 

He  waited  a  little,  studying  her  down-bent 
face. 

"Well,"  he  muttered;  "  you  don't  have  to 
come.  I  know  I  oughtn't  to  take  a  moment's 
time.  I  did  quite  a  bit  last  night ;  but  if  you 
think  —  " 

She  glanced  up,  puzzled.  His  meaning  flashed 
upon  her,  and  she  rose. 

11  Oh,  not  that !  I  will  come,"  she  answered, 
and  hastened  to  prepare  the  morning  meal. 

When  they  came  to  the  tree-ladder,  she  found 
that  the  heap  of  stones  built  up  by  Blake  to 
facilitate  the  first  part  of  the  ascent  was  now 
so  high  that  she  could  climb  into  the  branches 
without  difficulty.  She  surmised  that  Blake  had 
found  it  necessary  to  build  up  the  pile  before  he 
could  ascend  with  his  burden. 

They  were  at  the  foot  of  the  heap,  when,  with 
is  [  273  ] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

a  sharp  exclamation,  Blake  sprang  up  into  the 
branches,  and  scrambled  to  the  top  in  hot  haste. 
Wondering  what  this  might  mean,  Miss  Leslie 
followed  as  fast  as  she  could.  When  she  reached 
the  top,  she  saw  him  running  across  towards  an 
out-jutting  point  on  the  north  edge  of  the  cliff. 

She  had  hurried  after  him  for  more  than  half 
the  distance  before  she  perceived  the  vultures 
that  were  gathered  in  a  solemn  circle  about  a 
long  and  narrow  heap  of  stones,  on  a  ledge,  down 
on  the  sloping  brink  of  the  cliff.  While  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree  Blake  had  seen  one  of  the  grew- 
sorne  flock  descending  to  join  the  others,  and, 
fearful  of  what  might  be  happening,  had  rushed 
on  ahead. 

At  his  approach,  the  croaking  watchers  hopped 
awkwardly  from  the  ledges,  and  soared  away; 
only  to  wheel,  and  circle  back  overhead.  Miss 
Leslie  shrank  down,  shuddering.  Blake  came 
back  near  her,  and  began  to  gather  up  the  pieces 
of  loose  rock  which  were  strewn  about  beneath 
the  ledges  on  that  part  of  the  cliff. 

"  I  know  I  piled  up  enough,"  he  explained,  in 
response  to  her  look.  "All  the  same,  a  few 
more  will  do  no  harm." 

"  Then  you  are  sure  those  awful  birds  have 
not  —  " 

"Yes;  I'm  sure." 

[274] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

He  carried  an  armful  of  rocks  to  lay  on  the 
mound  When  he  began  to  gather  more,  she 
followed  his  example.  They  worked  in  silence, 
piling  the  rough  stones  gently  one  upon  another, 
until  the  cairn  had  grown  to  twice  its  former  size. 
The  air  on  the  open  cliff  top  was  fresher  than  in 
the  cleft,  and  Miss  Leslie  gave  little  heed  to  the 
absence  of  shade.  She  would  have  worked  on 
under  the  burning  sun  without  thought  of  conse 
quences.  But  Blake  knew  the  need  of  moderation. 

"There;  that'll  do,"  he  said.  "He  may  have 
been  —  all  he  was;  but  we've  no  more  than 
done  our  duty.  Now,  we'll  stroll  out  on  the 
point." 

"  I  should  prefer  to  return." 

"  No  doubt.  But  it 's  time  you  learned  how  to 
go  nesting.  What  if  you  should  be  left  alone 
here  1  Besides,  it  looks  to  me  like  the  signal  is 
tearing  loose." 

She  accompanied  him  out  along  the  cliff  crest 
until  they  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  bird  colony, 
half  deafened  by  their  harsh  clamor.  She  had 
never  ventured  into  their  concourse  when  alone. 
Even  now  she  cried  out,  and  would  have  re 
treated  before  the  sharp  bills  and  beating  wings 
had  not  Blake  walked  ahead  and  kicked  the 
squawking  birds  out  of  the  path.  Having  made 
certain  that  the  big  white  flag  was  still  secure  on 

[275] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

its  staff,  he  led  the  way  along  the  seaward  brink 
of  the  cliff,  pointing-  out  the  different  kinds  of 
seafowl,  and  shouting  information  about  such  of 
their  habits  and  qualities  as  were  of  concern  to 
hungry  castaways. 

He  concluded  the  lesson  by  descending  a  dizzy 
flight  of  ledges  to  rob  the  nest  of  a  frigate  bird. 
It  was  a  foolhardy  feat  at  best,  and  doubly  so  in 
view  of  the  thousands  of  eggs  lying  all  around 
in  the  hollows  of  the  cliff  top.  But  from  these 
Blake  had  recently  culled  out  all  the  fresh  set 
tings  of  the  frigate  birds,  and  none  of  the  other 
eggs  equalled  them  in  delicacy  of  flavor. 

"How's  that?"  he  demanded,  as  he  drew 
himself  up  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  handed 
the  big  chalky-white  egg  into  her  keeping. 

"  I  would  rather  go  without  than  see  you  take 
such  risks,"  she  replied  coldly. 

"  You  would,  eh  I"  he  cried,  quite  misunder 
standing  her,  and  angered  by  what  seemed  to  him 
a  gratuitous  rebuff.  "Well,  I'd  rather  you'd 
say  nothing  than  speak  in  that  tone.  If  you 
don't  want  the  egg  heave  it  over." 

Unable  to  conceive  any  cause  for  his  sudden 
anger,  she  was  alarmed,  and  drew  back,  watching 
him  with  sidelong  glances. 

"  What 's  the  matter  !  "  he  demanded.  "  Think 
I  'm  going  to  bite  you  ? " 

[276] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

She  shrank  farther  away,  and  did  not  answer. 
He  stared  at  her,  his  eyes  hard  and  bright.  Sud 
denly  he  burst  into  a  harsh  laugh,  and  strode 
away  towards  the  cliff,  savagely  kicking  aside 
the  birds  that  came  in  his  path. 

When,  an  hour  later,  the  girl  crept  back  along 
the  cleft  to  the  baobab,  she  saw  him  hard  at  work 
building  a  little  hut,  several  yards  down  towards 
the  barricade.  The  moment  she  perceived  what 
he  was  about  her  bearing  became  less  guarded, 
and  she  took  up  her  own  work  with  a  spirit  and 
energy  which  she  had  not  shown  since  the  ad 
venture  with  the  puff  adder. 

At  her  call  to  the  noon  meal,  Blake  took  his 
time  to  respond,  and  when  he  at  last  came  to 
join  her,  he  was  morose  and  taciturn.  She  met 
him  with  a  smile,  and  exerted  all  her  womanly 
tact  to  conciliate  him. 

"  You  must  help  me  eat  the  egg,"  she  said. 
"  I  Ve  boiled  it  hard." 

"  Rather  eat  beef,"  he  mumbled. 

"But  just  to  please  me  —  when  I've  cooked 
it  your  way  ?  " 

He  uttered  an  inarticulate  sound  which  she 
chose  to  interpret  as  assent.  The  egg  was  al 
ready  shelled.  She  cut  it  exactly  in  half,  and 
served  one  of  the  pieces  to  him  with  a  bit  of 
warm  fat  and  a  pinch  of  salt.  As  he  took  the 

[277  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

dish,  he  raised  his  sullen  eyes  to  her  face.     She 
met  his  gaze  with  a  look  of  smiling  insistence. 

1 1  Come  now,"  she  said;  "please  don't  refuse. 
I  'm  sorry  I  was  so  rude." 

"  Well,  if  you  feel  that  way  about  it !  —  not  that 
I  care  for  fancy  dishes,"  he  responded  gruffly. 

"  It  would  be  missing  half  the  enjoyment  to 
eat  such  a  delicacy  without  some  one  to  share 
it,"  she  said. 

Blake  looked  away  without  answer.  But  she 
could  see  that  his  face  was  beginning  to  clear. 
Greatly  encouraged,  she  chatted  away  as  though 
they  were  seated  at  her  father's  dinner-table,  and 
he  was  an  elderly  friend  from  the  business  world 
whom  it  was  her  duty  to  entertain. 

For  a  while  Blake  betrayed  little  interest, 
confining  himself  to  monosyllables  except  when 
he  commented  on  the  care  with  which  she  had 
cooked  the  various  dishes.  When  she  least  ex 
pected,  he  looked  up  at  her,  his  lips  parted  in  a 
broad  smile.  She  stopped  short,  for  she  had  been 
describing  her  first  social  triumphs,  and  his  un 
timely  levity  embarrassed  her. 

"  Don't  get  mad,  Miss  Jenny,"  he  said,  his  eyes 
twinkling.  "You  don't  know  how  funny  it 
seems  to  sit  here  and  listen  to  you  talking  about 
those  things.  It 's  like  serving  up  ice  cream  and 
onions  in  the  same  dish." 

[278] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

"I'm  sure,  Mr.  Blake  —  " 

"Beats  a  burlesque  all  hollow  —  Mrs.  Sint- 
Regis-WaldofTs  chop-sooey  tea  and  young  Mrs. 
Vandam- Jones's  auto- cotillon  —  with  us  sitting 
here  like  troglodytes,  chewing  snake-poisoned 
antelope,  and  you  in  that  Kundry  dress  — " 

"Do  you  —  I  was  not  aware  that  you  knew 
about  music." 

"  Don't  know  a  note.  But  give  me  a  chance 
to  hear  good  music,  and  I  'm  there,  if  I  have  to 
stand  in  the  peanut  gallery." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad !  I  'm  very,  very  fond  of 
music  !  Have  you  been  to  Bayreuth  ?  " 

"Where's  that?" 

"  In  Germany.  It  is  where  his  operas  are 
given  as  staged  by  Wagner  himself.  It  is  in 
describably  grand  and  inspiring  —  above  all,  the 
Parsifal!" 

"  I  '11  most  certainly  take  that  in,  even  if  I  have 
to  cut  short  my  engagement  in  this  gee-lorious 
clime  —  not  but  what,  when  it  comes  to  leopard 
ladies  — "  He  paused,  and  surveyed  her  with 
frank  admiration. 

The  blood  leaped  into  her  face. 

"  Oh !  "  she  gasped,  "  I  never  dreamed  that 
even  such  a  man  as  you  would  compare  me  with 
—  with  a  creature  like  that !  " 

"  Such  a  man  as  me !  "  repeated  Blake,  staring. 
[  279  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  know  I  'm  not  much 
of  a  ladies'  man ;  but  to  be  yanked  up  like  this 
when  a  fellow  is  trying  to  pay  a  compliment  — 
well,  it 's  not  just  what  you  'd  call  pleasant." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Blake.  I  misunder 
stood.  I  —  " 

"That's  all  right,  Miss  Jenny!  I  don't  ask 
any  lady  to  beg  my  pardon.  The  only  thing 
is  I  don't  see  why  you  should  flare  out  at  me 
that  way." 

For  a  full  minute  she  sat,  with  down-bent  head, 
her  face  clouded  with  doubt  and  indecision.  At 
last  she  bravely  raised  her  eyes  to  meet  his. 

"  Do  you  wonder  that  I  am  not  quite  myself?  " 
she  asked.  "  You  should  remember  that  I  have 
always  had  the  utmost  comforts  of  life,  and  have 
been  cared  for  —  Don't  you  see  how  terrible  it  is 
for  me?  And  then  the  death  of — of  —  " 

"  I  can't  be  sorry  for  that ! " 

"  But  even  you  felt  how  terrible  it  was  .... 
and  then  —  Oh,  surely,  you  must  see  how  —  how 
embarrassing  —  " 

It  was  Blake's  turn  to  look  down  and  hesitate. 
She  studied  his  face,  her  bosom  heaving  with 
quick-drawn  breath ;  but  she  could  make  nothing 
of  his  square  jaw  and  firm-set  lips.  His  eyes 
were  concealed  by  the  brim  of  his  leaf  hat. 
When  he  spoke,  seemingly  it  was  to  change  the 

[  280] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

subject :  "  Guess  you  saw  me  making  my  hut. 
I  'in  fixing  it  so  it  '11  do  me  even  when  it  rains." 

Had  he  been  the  kind  of  man  that  she  had 
been  educated  to  consider  as  alone  entitled  to  the 
name  of  gentleman,  she  could  have  felt  certain 
that  he  had  intended  the  remark  for  a  delicately 
worded  assurance.  But  was  Tom  Blake,  for  all 
his  blunt  kindliness,  capable  of  such  tact?  She 
chose  to  consider  that  he  was. 

"  It  Ja  a  cunning  little  bungalow.  But  will  not 
the  rain  flood  you  out  ?  " 

"It's  going  to  have  a  raised  floor.  You're 
more  like  to  have  the  rain  drive  in  on  you  again. 
I  '11  have  to  rig  up  a  porch  over  your  door.  It 
won't  do  to  stuff  up  the  hole.  You  Ve  little 
enough  air  as  it  is.  But  that  can  wait  a  while. 
There  's  other  work  more  pressing.  First,  there 's 
the  barricade.  By  the  time  that's  done,  those 
hyena  skins  will  be  cured  enough  to  use.  I  Ve 
got  to  have  new  trousers  soon,  and  new  shoes, 
too." 

"I  can  do  the  sewing,  if  you  will  cut  out  the 
pattern." 

"  No ;  I  '11  take  a  stagger  at  it  myself  first. 
I  'd  rather  you  'd  go  egging.  You  need  to  run 
around  more,  to  keep  in  trim." 

"I  feel  quite  well  now,  and  I  am  growing  so 
strong !  The  only  thing  is  this  constant  heat." 

[281  ] 


INTO     THE    PRIMITIVE 

a  We  '11  have  to  grin  and  bear  it.  After  all, 
it 's  not  so  bad,  if  only  we  can  stave  off  the  fever. 
Another  reason  I  want  you  to  go  for  eggs  is  that 
you  can  take  your  time  about  it,  and  keep  a 
look-out  for  steamers." 

" Then  you  think  —  I" 

"  Don't  screw  up  your  hopes  too  high.  We  Ve 
little  show  of  being  picked  up  by  a  chance  boat 
on  a  coast  with  reefs  like  this.  But  I  figure  that  if 
I  was  in  your  daddy's  shoes,  it  'd  be  high  time  for 
me  to  be  cabling  a  ship  to  run  up  from  Natal,  or 
down  from  Zanzibar,  to  look  around  for  jettison, 
et  cetera." 

"  I  'm  sure  papa  will  offer  a  big  reward." 

"  Second  the  motion  !  I  've  a  sort  of  idea  I 
would  n't  mind  coming  in  for  a  reward  myself." 

"  You  ?  Oh,  yes ;  to  be  sure.  Papa  is  gen 
erous,  and  he  will  be  grateful  to  any  one  who  —  " 

"  You  think  I  mean  his  dirty  money  ! "  broke 
in  Blake,  hotly. 

Her  confusion  told  him  that  he  had  not  been 
mistaken.  His  face,  only  a  moment  since  bright 
and  pleasant,  took  on  its  sullenest  frown. 

Miss  Leslie  rose  hurriedly,  and  started  along 
the  cleft. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  called.  "  Not  going  for  eggs  now, 
are  you  I " 

She  did  not  reply. 

[282  ] 


UNDERSTANDING  AND  MISUNDERSTANDING 

"  Hang  it  all,  Miss  Jenny !  Don't  go  off  like 
that." 

"  May  I  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  Mr.  Blake?  Is 
that  sufficient !  " 

"  Sufficient  ¥  It 's  enough  to  give  a  fellow  a 
chill !  Come  now ;  don't  go  off  mad.  You  know 
I  've  a  quick  temper.  Can't  you  make  allow 
ances  I " 

"  You  Ve  —  you  've  no  right  to  look  so  angry, 
even  if  I  did  misunderstand  you.  You  misunder 
stood  me  !  "  She  caught  herself  up  with  a  half 
sob.  His  silence  gave  her  time  to  recover  her 
composure.  She  continued  with  excessive  polite 
ness,  "  Need  I  repeat  my  request  to  be  excused, 
Mr.  Blake  I " 

"  No ;  once  is  enough !  But  honest  now,  I 
didn't  mean  to  be  nasty." 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  Blake." 

"  Oh,  da-darn  it,  good-day !  "  he  groaned. 

When,  a  few  minutes  later,  she  returned,  he 
was  gone.  He  did  not  come  back  until  some 
time  after  dark,  when  she  had  withdrawn  to  her 
lean-to  for  the  night.  His  hands  were  bleeding 
from  thorn  scratches;  but  after  a  hasty  supper, 
he  went  back  down  the  cleft  to  build  up  the  new 
wall  of  the  barricade  with  the  great  stack  of  fresh 
thorn-brush  that  he  had  gathered  during  the 
afternoon. 

[283] 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
THE   END   OF  THE   WORLD 

IN  the  morning  he  met  Miss  Leslie  with  a  sullen 
bearing-,  which,  however,  did  not  altogether 
conceal  his  desire  to  be  on  friendly  terms. 
Having  regained  her  self-control,  she  responded 
to  this  with  such  tact  that  by  evening  each  felt 
more  at  ease  in  the  new  relationship,  and  Blake 
had  lost  every  trace  of  his  moroseness.  The  fact 
that  both  were  passionately  fond  of  music  proved 
an  immense  help.  It  gave  them  an  impersonal 
source  of  mutual  sympathy  and  understanding,  — 
a  common  meeting-ground  in  the  world  of  art  and 
culture,  apart  from  and  above  the  plane  of  their 
material  wants. 

Yet  for  all  his  enjoyment  of  the  girl's  wide 
knowledge  of  everything  relating  to  music,  Blake 
took  care  that  their  talks  and  discussions  did  not 
interfere  with  the  activities  of  their  primitive  mode 
of  life.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  with  the  bar 
ricade,  he  devoted  himself  to  his  tailoring  and 
shoe-making ;  while  Miss  Leslie,  between  her 
cooking  and  wood-gathering  and  daily  visits  to 

[284] 


THE     END     OF    THE     WORLD 

the  cliff  for  eggs,  had  much  to  occupy  both  her 
thoughts  and  her  hands. 

At  first  every  ascent  of  the  cliff  was  embittered 
by  a  painful  consciousness  of  the  cairn  upon  the 
north  edge.  Fortunately  it  was  not  in  sight  from 
the  direct  path  to  the  headland,  and,  as  she  re 
frained  from  visiting  it,  the  new  happenings  of 
her  wild  life  soon  thrust  Winthrope  and  his  death 
out  of  the  foreground  of  her  thoughts.  Each  day 
she  had  to  nerve  herself  to  meet  the  beaks  and 
wings  of  the  despoiled  nest-owners  ;  each  day  she 
looked  with  greater  hope  for  the  expected  rescue 
ship,  only  to  be  increasingly  disappointed. 

But  the  hours  she  spent  on  the  cliff  crest  after 
gathering  the  day's  supply  of  eggs  were  not  spent 
merely  in  watching  and  longing.  The  inconven 
ience  of  carrying  the  eggs  in  a  handkerchief  or  in 
one  of  the  heavy  jars  suggested  a  renewal  of  her 
attempt  at  basket-making.  Memory,  perseverance, 
and  a  trace  of  inventiveness  enabled  her  to  pro 
duce  a  small  but  serviceable  hamper  of  split 
bamboo. 

Encouraged  by  this  success  she  gathered  a 
quantity  of  tough,  wiry  grass,  and  wove  a  hat  to 
take  the  place  of  the  flimsy  palm-leaf  makeshift. 
The  result  was  by  no  means  satisfactory  with 
regard  to  style,  its  shape  being  intermediate  be 
tween  a  Mexican  sombrero  and  a  funnel ;  but 

[285] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

aside  from  its  appearance,  she  could  not  have 
wished  for  a  more  comfortable  head-cover.  Before 
showing  it  to  Blake,  she  wove  a  second  one  for 
him,  so  that  they  were  able  to  cast  aside  the  gro 
tesque,  palm-leaf  affairs  at  the  same  time. 

The  following  morning  Blake  appeared  in  an 
outfit  to  match  her  leopard-skin  dress.  He  had 
singed  off  the  hair  of  the  hide  out  of  which  he 
had  made  his  moccasons,  and  his  hyena-skin 
trousers  quite  matched  the  bristling  stubble  on 
his  face. 

"  Hey,  Miss  Jenny  !  "  he  hailed  ;  "  what  d' 
you  think  of  this  for  fancy  needlework  I " 

"  Splendid !  You  're  the  very  picture  of  an 
Argentine  vaquero." 

"  Greaser?  —  ugh!  Let  me  get  back  to  the 
Weary  Willy  pants !  " 

"  I  mean  you  are  very  picturesque." 

"  That 's  it,  is  it  ?  Glad  I  've  got  something  to 
call  your  leopardine  gown  that  won't  make  you 
huffy." 

"We  can  at  least  call  our  costumes  serviceable, 
and  mine  has  proved  much  cooler  than  I  expected." 

"  But  our  new  hats  beat  all  for  that  —  regular 
sunshades.  What  do  you  say  I  —  there 's  a  good 
breeze —  Let's  take  a  hike." 

"  Not  to  the  river !  The  very  thought  of  that 
dreadful  snake  —  " 

[  286] 


THE    END     OF    THE    WORLD 

"  No ;  just  the  other  way.  I  've  been  thinking 
for  some  time  that  we  ought  to  run  down  to  that 
south  headland,  and  take  a  squint  at  the  coast 
beyond.  Ten  to  one,  it 's  another  stretch  of 
swainps,  but  —  " 

"  You  think  there  is  a  chance  we  may  find  a 
town  ?  " 

"About  one  chance  in  a  million,  even  for  a 
native  village.  The  slave  trade  wiped  the  niggers 
off  this  coast,  and  I  guess  those  that  hit  out  up- 
country  ran  so  hard  they  have  n't  been  able  to 
get  back  yet." 

"  But  it  has  been  years  since  the  slave  trade 
was  forbidden." 

"  And  they  don't  sell  beer  in  Kansas  —  oh,  no ! 
I  '11  bet  the  dhows  still  slip  over  from  Madagascar 
when  the  moon  is  in  the  right  quarter.  At  any 
rate,  niggers  are  mighty  scarce  or  mighty  shy 
around  here.  I  've  kept  a  watch  for  smoke,  and 
have  n't  seen  a  suspicion  of  it  anywhere.  Maybe 
the  swamps  swing  around  inland  and  cut  off  this 
strip  of  coast.  It  looked  that  way  to  me  when  I 
made  that  trip  along  the  ridge.  But  there 's  a 
chance  it  used  to  be  inhabited,  and  we  may  run 
across  an  abandoned  village." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  discovery  would  do  us 
any  good." 

"  How  about  the  chance  of  grain  or  bananas 
[  287  1 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

still  growing  I  But  that's  all  a  guess.  We're 
going  because  we  need  a  change." 

She  nodded,  and  hastened  to  prepare  breakfast, 
while  he  packed  a  skin  bag  with  food,  and  ex 
amined  the  slender  tips  of  his  arrows.  As  a 
matter  of  precaution,  he  had  been  keeping  them 
in  the  cigarette  case,  where  the  points  would  be 
certain  of  a  coat  of  the  sticky  poison  and  at  the 
same  time  guarded  against  inflicting  a  chance 
wound.  But  as  he  was  now  about  to  set  out  on 
a  journey,  he  fitted  tips  into  the  heads  of  his  two 
straightest  shafts. 

The  morning  was  still  fresh  when  they  closed 
the  barricade  behind  them  and  descended  to 
the  pool.  There  was  no  game  in  sight,  but 
Blake  had  no  wish  to  hunt  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  trip.  The  steady  southwest  wind 
had  blown  the  sky  clear  of  its  malarial  haze, 
and  gave  promise  of  a  day  which  should  know 
nothing  of  sultry  calm  —  a  day  on  which  game 
would  be  hard  to  stalk,  but  one  perfectly  suited 
for  a  long  tramp. 

Mindful  of  ticks,  Blake  headed  obliquely  across 
to  the  beach.  Once  on  the  smooth,  hard  sand, 
they  swung  along  at  a  brisk  pace,  light-hearted 
and  keen  with  the  spirit  of  adventure.  Never 
had  they  felt  more  companionable.  Miss  Leslie 
laughed  and  chatted  and  sang  snatches  of  songs, 

[  288] 


THE     END     OF    THE    WORLD 

while  Blake  beat  time  with  his  club,  or  sought  to 
whistle  grand  opera  —  he  had  healed  his  blis 
tered  lips  some  time  before  by  liberal  applications 
of  antelope  tallow. 

Gulls  and  terns  circled  about  them,  or  hoVered 
over  the  water,  ready  to  swoop  down  upon  their 
finny  prey.  Sandpipers  ran  along  the  beach 
within  a  stone's  throw,  but  the  curlews  showed 
their  greater  knowledge  of  mankind  by  keeping 
beyond  gunshot. 

Once  a  great  flock  of  geese  drove  high  over 
head,  their  leader  honking  the  alarm  as  they 
swept  above  the  suspicious  figures  on  the  beach. 
Like  the  curlews,  they  had  knowledge  of  man 
kind.  But  the  flock  of  white  pelicans  which  carne 
sailing  along  in  stately  leisure  on  their  immense 
wings  floated  past  so  low  that  Blake  felt  certain 
he  could  shoot  one.  He  raised  his  bow  and 
took  aim,  but  refrained  from  shooting,  at  the 
thought  that  it  might  be  a  sheer  waste  of  his 
precious  poison. 

A  little  later  a  herd  of  large  animals  appeared 
on  the  border  of  the  grass  jungle,  but  wheeled 
and  dashed  back  into  cover  so  quickly  that  Blake 
barely  had  time  to  make  out  that  they  were  buffa 
loes —  the  first  he  had  seen  on  this  coast,  but 
easily  recognized  by  their  resemblance  to  the 
Cape  variety.  Their  flight  gave  him  small 
w  [289] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

concern ;  for  the  time  being  he  was  more  inter 
ested  in  topography  than  game. 

The  southern  headland  now  lay  close  before 
them,  its  seaward  face  rearing  up  sheer  and  lofty, 
but  the  approach  behind  running  down  in  broken 
terraces.  Mid-morning  found  the  explorers  at 
the  foot  of  the  ridge.  Blake  squinted  up  at  the 
boulder-strewn  slopes  and  the  crannies  of  the 
broken  ledges. 

"  Likely  place  for  snakes,  Miss  Jenny,"  he 
remarked.  "  Guess  I  'd  better  lead." 

Eager  as  she  was  to  look  over  into  the  country 
beyond,  the  girl  dropped  into  second  place,  and 
made  no  complaint  about  the  wary  slowness  of 
her  companion's  advance.  She  found  the  most 
difficult  parts  of  the  ascent  quite  easy  after  her 
training  on  the  tree-ladder.  Blake  could  have 
taken  ledges  and  all  at  a  run,  but  as  he  mounted 
each  terrace,  he  halted  to  spy  out  the  ground 
before  him.  Like  Miss  Leslie,  he  was  looking  for 
snakes,  though  for  an  exactly  opposite  reason. 
He  wished  to  add  to  the  contents  of  the  cigarette 
case. 

Greatly  to  his  disappointment  and  the  girl's  re 
lief,  neither  snake  nor  sign  of  snake  was  to  be  seen 
all  the  way  up  the  ridge.  As  they  neared  the 
crest  Blake  turned  to  offer  her  his  hand  up  the 
last  ledges,  and  in  the  instant  they  gained  the  top. 

[  290] 


THE    END     OF    THE    WORLD 

The  wind,  now  freshening  to  a  gale,  struck  the 
girl  with  such  force  that  she  would  have  been 
blown  back  down  the  ledges  had  not  Blake 
clutched  her  wrist.  Heedless  alike  of  the  painful 
grip  which  held  her  and  of  the  gusts  which  tore 
at  her  skirt,  the  girl  stood  gazing  out  across  the 
desolate  swamps  which  stretched  away  to  the 
southwest  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  She  did 
not  speak  until  Blake  led  her  down  behind  the 
shelter  of  the  crest  ledges. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  Did  n't 
I  warn  you  ?  " 

She  looked  away  to  hide  the  tears  which  sprang 
into  her  eyes. 

"  I  can't  explain  —  only,  it  makes  me  feel  so  — 
so  lonely ! " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  little  woman ;  don't  take  on 
so  ! "  he  urged.  "  It  might  be  a  lot  worse,  you 
know.  We  've  gotten  along  pretty  well,  con 
sidering." 

"  You  have  been  very  kind,  Mr.  Blake,  and  as 
you  say,  matters  might  have  been  worse.  I  do 
not  forget  how  far  more  terrible  was  our  situa 
tion  the  morning  after  the  storm.  Yet  you  must 
realize  how  disappointing  it  is  to  lose  even  the 
slightest  hope  of  escape." 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  If  it  wasn't  for  the 
fever  that 's  bound  to  come  with  the  rains,  I,  for 

[291] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

one,  would  just  as  leave  stick  to  this  camp  right 
along,  providing  the  company  don't  change." 

She  turned  upon  him  with  flashing  eyes,  all 
thought  of  caution  lost  in  her  anger.  "  How 
dare  you  say  such  a  thing  ?  You  are  contempt 
ible  !  I  despise  you  ! " 

"  My,  Miss  Jenny,  but  you  are  pretty  when 
you  get  mad ! "  he  exclaimed. 

The  answer  took  her  completely  aback.  He 
was  neither  angry  nor  laughing  at  her,  but  met 
her  defiant  glance  with  candid,  sober  admiration. 
There  was  something  more  than  admiration  in 
his  glowing  eyes ;  yet  she  could  not  but  see  that 
her  alarm  had  been  baseless.  His  manner  had 
never  been  more  respectful.  Suddenly  she  found 
that  she  could  no  longer  meet  his  gaze.  She 
looked  away  and  stammered  lamely,  "  You  —  you 
should  n't  say  such  things,  you  know." 

"  Why  not  ?  Has  n't  everything  been  running 
smooth  the  last  few  days  I  Have  n't  we  been 
good  chummy  comrades  ?  Of  course  you  've  got 
the  worst  of  the  deal.  I  know  I  'm  not  much  on 
fancy  talk ;  but  I  like  to  hear  it  when  I  've  a 
chance.  I  've  led  a  lonesome  sort  of  life  since 
they  did  for  my  sisters —  No;  I'm  not  going 
to  rake  that  up  again.  I  'm  only  trying  to  give 
you  an  idea  what  it  means  to  a  fellow  to  be  with 
a  lady  like  you.  Maybe  it  is  n't  polite  to  tell 

[  292] 


THE     END     OF    THE     WORLD 

you  all  this,  but  it 's  just  what  I  feel,  and  I  never 
did  amount  to  shucks  as  a  liar." 

"  I  believe  I  understand  you,  Mr.  Blake,  and  I 
really  feel  highly  complimented." 

"No,  you  don't,  any  such  thing,  Miss  Jenny. 
Own  up,  now  !  If  I  met  you  to-morrow  on  your 
papa's  doorstep,  you  'd  cut  me  cold." 

"I  should  if  you  continued  to  be  so  rude. 
Have  you  no  regard  for  my  feelings  I  But  here 
we  are,  talking  nonsense,  when  we  should  be 
going  —  " 

"  Is  it  nonsense  ?  "  he  broke  in.  "  What  does 
life  mean,  anyway  I  Here  we  can  be  true 
friends  and  comrades, — real,  free  living  people. 
It  can't  be  that  you  want  to  go  back  to  all  those 
society  shams,  after  you  've  seen  real  life !  As 
for  me,  what  have  I  to  gain  by  going  back  to 
the  everlasting  grind?  I  don't  mind  work;  but 
when  a  man  has  nothing  ahead  to  work  for  but  a 
bank  account,  when  it's  grind,  grind,  grind  till 
your  head  goes  stale  and  all  the  world  looks 
black,  then  there 's  no  choice  but  throw  up  your 
job  and  go  on  a  drunk,  if  you  want  to  keep  from 
a  gun  accident.  Maybe  you  don't  understand  it. 
But  that's  what  I've  had  to  go  through,  time 
and  again.  Do  you  wonder  I  like  to  fancy  an 
everlasting  picnic  here,  with  a  little  partner  who 
would  n't  let  me  come  within  shouting  distance 

[  293  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

of  her  in  the  land  of  lavender  —  trousers  and 
peek-a-boos  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Blake,  really  you  are  most  unjust !  I 
could  not  be  so  —  so  ungrateful,  after  all  your 
kindness.  I  —  we  should  certainly  be  glad  to 
number  you  among  our  friends." 

"Drink  and  all,  eh?" 

"  A  man  of  your  will-power  has  no  need 
whatever  to  give  way  to  such  a  habit." 

"  Course  not,  if  he 's  got  anything  in  sight 
worth  while.  Guess,  though,  my  folks  must 
have  been  poor  white  trash.  I  never  could  go 
after  money  just  for  the  fun  of  the  game.  No 
family,  no  friends,  no  —  what  -you- call  -  it  ?  — 
culture  —  What 's  the  use  f  I  have  a  fair 
head  for  figures ;  but  all  the  mathematics  that 
I  know  I  Ve  had  to  catch  hot  off  the  bat.  It 's 
true  I  grubbed  my  C.  E.  out  of  a  correspond 
ence  school ;  but  a  fellow  has  to  have  an  all- 
round,  crack-up  education  to  put  him  where  it's 
worth  while." 

"You  still  have  time  to  work  up.  You  are 
not  much  over  thirty." 

"  Twenty-seven." 

"Twenty-seven!  I  should  have  thought  — 
What  a  hard  life  you  must  have  had  !  " 

"  Hard  work  ?  Well,  I  suppose  Panama  did  do 
for  me  some.  But  it  was  n't  so  much  that.  Few 

[294] 


THE    END     OF    THE    WORLD 

fellows  could  hit  up  the  pace  I  Ve  set  and  come 
out  at  all." 

"  I  do  not  understand." 

"Just  what  you  might  expect  of  a  fellow  in 
my  fix  —  all  kinds  of  gamble  and  drink  and  — 
the  rest  of  it." 

Miss  Leslie  looked  away,  visibly  distressed. 
She  had  not  been  reared  after  the  French  method. 
Young  as  she  was,  she  had  fluttered  at  will  about 
the  borders  of  the  garden  of  vice,  knowing  well 
that  the  gaudy  blossoms  were  lures  to  entice  one 
into  the  pitfall.  Yet  never  before  had  she  caught 
so  clear  a  glimpse  of  the  slimy  depths. 

"That's  it!"  growled  Blake.  "Throw  me 
down  cold,  just  because  I  'm  square  enough  to 
tell  you  straight  out.  You  make  me  tired !  I  'm 
not  one  of  the  work-ox  sort,  that  can  chew  the  cud 
all  the  year  round,  and  cork  the  blood  out  of 
their  brains.  I  've  got  to  cut  loose  from  the 
infernal  grind  once  in  a  while,  and  barring  a 
chance  now  and  then  at  opera,  there 's  never 
been  anything  but  a  spree  —  " 

"Oh,  but  that's  so  dreadfully  shocking,  Mr. 
Blake  ! " 

"And  then  like  all  the  other  little  hypo 
crites,  you'll  go  and  marry  one  of  those  swell 
dudes  who's  made  that  sort  of  thing  his  busi 
ness,  and  everybody  knows  it,  but  it  's  all 

[295] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

politely  understood  to  've  been  done  sub  rosa, 
so  it 's  all  right,  because  he  knows  how  to  part 
his  name  in  the  middle  and  — " 

"  Please,  please  stop,  Mr.  Blake !  You  don't 
know  how  cruel  you  are !  " 

" Cruel?  Suppose  I  told  you  about  the  mil 
lionaire  cur  that  —  Oh,  now,  don't  go  and  cry  ! 
Please  don't  cry,  Miss  Jenny  !  I  would  n't  hurt 
your  feelings  for  the  world  !  I  did  n't  mean  any 
thing  out  of  the  way,  really  I  did  n't !  It 's  only 
that  when  I  get  to  thinking  of —  of  things,  it  sets 
me  half  crazy.  And  now,  can't  you  see  how  it 's 
going  to  be  ten  times  worse  for  me  after — with 
you  so  altogether  beyond  me  — "  He  stopped 
short,  flushed,  and  stammered  lamely,  "I  —  I 
didn't  mean  to  say  that!" 

She  looked  down,  no  less  embarrassed. 

"  Please  let  us  talk  of  something  else,"  she  mur 
mured.  "  It  has  been  such  a  pleasant  morning, 
until  you  —  until  we  began  this  silly  discussion." 

"  All  right,  all  right !  Only  mop  up  the  dew- 
drops,  and  we'll  turn  on  the  sun  machine.  I 
really  did  n't  mean  to  rip  out  that  way  at  all. 
But,  you  see,  the  thing's  been  rankling  in  me  ever 
since  we  came  aboard  ship  at  the  Cape,  and  Win- 
thrope  and  Lady  Bayrose  had  my  seat  changed  so 
I  could  n't  see  you  —  Not  that  I  hold  anything 
against  them  now  —  " 

[  296  ] 


THE    END    OF    THE    WORLD 

"  Mr.  Blake,  I  suppose  you  know  that  this 
African  coast  is  particularly  dangerous  for  women. 
So  far  I  have  escaped  the  fever.  But  you  your 
self  said  that  the  longer  the  attack  is  delayed, 
the  worse  it  will  be." 

Blake's  face  darkened,  and  he  turned  to  stare 
inland  along  the  ridge.  She  had  flicked  him  on 
the  raw,  and  he  thought  that  she  had  done  so 
intentionally. 

"You  think  I  haven't  tried  —  that  I've  been 
shamming!"  he  burst  out  bitterly.  "You're 
right.  There 's  the  one  chance  —  But  I 
could  n't  leave  you  till  the  barricade  was  finished, 
and  it 's  been  only  a  few  days  since  —  All  the 
same,  I  ought  n't  to  Ve  waited  a  day.  I  '11  start 
it  to-morrow." 

"What?     Start  what  1" 

"A  catamaran.  I  can  rig  one  up,  in  short 
order,  that,  with  a  skin  sail  and  an  outrigger,  will 
do  fairly  well  to  coast  along  inside  the  reefs  — 
barring  squalls.  Worst  thing  is  that  it 's  all  a 
guess  whether  the  nearest  settlement  is  up  the 
coast  or  down." 

"  And  you  can  think  of  going,  and  leaving  me 
all  alone  here  !  " 

"  That's  better  than  letting  you  risk  two-to-one 
chances  on  feeding  the  sharks." 

"  But  you  'd  be  risking  it ! " 
[  297  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Blake  uttered  a  short  harsh  laugh. 

"  What 's  the  difference  ?  "  He  paused  a 
moment ;  then  added,  with  grim  humor,  "  Any 
way,  they'll  have  earned  a  meal  by  the  time 
they  get  me  chewed  up." 

"  You  sha'n't  go  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  We  '11  see  about  it  to 
morrow.  There  's  a  grove  of  cocoanuts  yonder. 
Come  on,  and  I  '11  get  some  nuts.  I  can't  see  any 
water  around  here,  and  it  would  be  dry  eating, 
with  only  the  flask." 


[298] 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A  LION  LEADS  THEM 

THE  palm  grove  stood  under  the  lee  of  the 
ridge,  on  a  stretch  of  bare  ground.  Other 
than  seaward,  the  open  space  was  hemmed 
in  by  grass  jungle,  interspersed  with  clumps  of 
thorn-brush.  On  the  north  side  a  jutting  corner 
of  the  tall,  yellow  spear-grass  curved  out  and 
around,  with  the  point  of  the  hook  some  fifty 
yards  from  the  palms.  Elsewhere  the  distance  to 
the  jungle  was  nearly  twice  as  far. 

Blake  dropped  the  bag  and  his  weapons,  flung 
down  his  hat,  and  started  up  a  palm  shaft.  The 
down-pointing  bristles  of  his  skin  trousers  aided 
his  grip.  Though  the  lofty  crown  of  the  palm 
was  swaying  in  the  wind,  he  reached  the  top  and 
was  down  again  before  Miss  Leslie  had  arranged 
the  contents  of  the  lunch  bag. 

"  Guess  you  're  not  extra  hungry,"  he  remarked. 

She  made  no  response. 

"Mad,  eh?  Well,  toss  me  the  little  knife. 
Mine  has  got  too  good  a  meat-edge  to  spoil  on 

these  husks." 

[299] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  climb  for  the  nuts, 
and  the  wind  blowing  so  hard  up  there,"  she  said, 
as  she  handed  over  the  penknife.  "  I  am  not 
angry.  It  is  only  that  I  feel  tired  and  depressed. 
I  hope  I  am  not  going  to  be  —  " 

"  No  ;  you  're  not  going  to  have  the  fever,  or 
any  such  thing  !  You  're  played  out,  that 's  all. 
I  'm  a  fool  for  bringing  you  so  far.  You  '11  be  all 
right  after  you  eat  and  rest.  Here ;  drink  this 
cocoa  milk." 

She  drained  the  nut,  and  upon  his  insistence, 
made  a  pretence  at  eating.  He  was  deceived 
until,  with  the  satisfying  of  his  first  keen  hunger, 
he  again  became  observant. 

"  Say,  that  won't  do  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Look 
at  your  bowl.  You  have  n't  nibbled  enough  to 
keep  a  mouse  alive." 

"  Really,  I  am  not  hungry.     But  I  am  resting." 

"  Try  another  nut.  I  '11  have  one  ready  in  two 
shakes." 

He  caught  his  hat,  which  was  dragging  past  in 
a  downward  eddy  of  the  wind,  and  weighted  it 
with  a  cocoanut.  He  wedged  another  nut  be 
tween  his  knees,  and  bent  over  it,  tearing  at  the 
husk.  It  took  him  only  a  few  moments  to  strip 
the  fibre  from  the  end  and  gouge  open  the  germ 
hole.  He  held  out  the  nut,  and  glanced  up  to 
meet  her  smile  of  acceptance. 

[  3001 


A     LION     LEADS     THEM 

She  was  staring  past  him,  her  eyes  wide  with 
terror,  and  the  color  fast  receding  from  her  face. 

"  What  in  —  Another  snake  I  "  he  demanded, 
twisting  warily  about  to  glare  at  the  ground  be 
hind  him. 

"  There  —  over  in  the  grass !  "  she  whispered. 
"  It  looked  out  at  me  with  terrible,  savage  eyes  ! " 

"  Snake  ?  —  that  far  off  ?" 

"  No,  no  !  —  a  monster  —  a  huge,  fierce  beast !  " 

"  Beast !  "  echoed  Blake,  grasping  his  bow  and 
arrows.  "  Where  is  he  ?  Maybe  only  one  of 
these  African  buffaloes.  How  'd  he  look  I  — 
horns  I " 

"I  —  I  did  n't  see  any.  It  was  all  shaggy, 
and  yellow  like  the  grass,  and  terrible  eyes  — 
Oh!" 

The  girl's  scream  was  met  by  a  ferocious,  snarl 
ing  roar,  so  deep  and  prolonged  that  the  air  quiv 
ered  and  the  very  ground  seemed  to  shake. 

"  God  !  —  a  lion  !  "  cried  Blake,  the  hair  on  his 
bare  head  bristling  like  a  startled  animal's. 

He  turned  squarely  about  toward  the  ridge,  his 
bow  half  drawn.  Had  the  lion  shown  himself 
then,  Blake  would  have  shot  on  the  instant.  As 
it  was,  the  beast  remained  behind  the  screening 
border  of  grass,  where  he  could  watch  his  intended 
quarry  without  being  seen  in  turn.  The  delay 
gave  Blake  time  for  reflection.  He  spoke  sharply, 

[301] 


INTO    THE    PRIMITIVE 

as  it  were  biting  off  his  words:  "Hit  out.  I'll 
stop  the  bluffer." 

"I  can't.     Oh,  I'm  afraid!" 

Again  the  hidden  beast  gave  voice  to  hia 
mighty  rumbling  challenge.  Still  he  did  not 
appear,  and  Blake  attempted  a  derisive  jeer: 
"  Hey,  there,  louder !  We  've  not  run  yet ! 
It 's  all  right,  little  woman.  The  skulking  sneak 
is  trying  to  bluff  us.  'Fraid  to  come  out  if  we 
don't  stampede.  He  '11  make  off  when  he  finds 
we  don't  scare.  Lions  never  tackle  men  in  the 
daytime.  Just  keep  cool  a  while.  He  '11  —  " 

"  Look  !  —  there  to  the  right !  —  I  saw  him 
again  !  He  's  creeping  around  !  See  the  grass 
move ! " 

"That's  only  the  wind.  It  eddies  down  — 
God !  he  is  stalking  around.  Trying  to  take  us 
from  behind  —  curse  him  !  He  may  get  me,  but 
I  '11  get  him  too,  —  the  dirty  sneak  !  " 

The  blood  had  flowed  back  into  Blake's  face, 
and  showed  on  each  cheek  in  a  little  red  patch. 
His  broad  chest  rose  and  fell  slowly  to  deep 
respirations  ;  his  eyes  glowed  like  balls  of  white- 
hot  steel.  He  drew  his  bow  a  little  tauter,  and 
wheeled  slowly  to  keep  the  arrow  pointed  at  the 
slight  wave  in  the  grass  which  marked  the  stealthy 
movements  of  the  lion.  Miss  Leslie,  more  terrified 
with  every  added  moment  of  suspense,  cringed 

[302] 


A     LION     LEADS    THEM 

around,  that  she  might  keep  him  between  her  and 
the  hidden  beast. 

Minute  after  minute  dragged  by.  Only  a  man 
of  Blake's  obstinate,  sullen  temperament  could 
have  withstood  the  strain  and  kept  cool.  Even 
he  found  the  impulse  to  leap  up  and  run  all  but 
irresistible.  Miss  Leslie  crouched  behind  him, 
no  more  able  to  run  than  a  mouse  with  which  a 
cat  has  been  playing. 

Once  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  sinuous, 
tawny  form  gliding  among  the  leafless  stems  of 
a  thorn  clump.  Blake  took  quick  aim ;  but  the 
outlines  of  the  beast  were  indistinct  and  the 
range  long.  He  hesitated,  and  the  opportunity 
was  lost. 

Yard  by  yard  they  watched  the  slight  swaying 
of  the  grass  tops  which  betrayed  the  cautious 
advance  of  the  grim  stalker.  The  beast  did  not 
roar  again.  Having  failed  to  flush  his  game,  he 
was  seeking  to  catch  them  off  their  guard,  or  per 
haps  was  warily  taking  stock  of  the  strange 
creatures,  whose  like  he  had  never  seen. 

Now  and  then  there  was  a  pause,  and  the  grass 
tops  swayed  only  to  the  down-puffs  of  the  height 
ening  gale.  At  such  moments  the  two  grew  rigid, 
watching  and  waiting  in  breathless  suspense. 
They  could  see,  as  distinctly  as  though  there  had 
been  no  screening  grass,  the  baleful  eyes  of  the 

[303  ] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

huge  cat  and  the  shaggy  forebody  as  the  beast 
stood  still  and  glared  out  at  them. 

Then  the  sinuous  wave  would  start  on  again 
around  the  grass  border,  and  Blake  would  draw 
in  a  deep  breath  and  mutter  a  word  of  encourage 
ment  to  the  girl :  "  Look,  now  —  the  dirty  sneak ! 
Trying  to  give  us  the  creeps,  is  he  I  I  '11  creeps 
him  !  'Fraid  to  show  his  pretty  mug  !  " 

Not  until  the  beast  had  circled  half  around  the 
glade  did  his  purpose  flash  upon  Blake.  With 
the  wariness  of  all  savage  hunters,  the  animal  had 
marked  out  the  spur  of  jungle  on  the  north  side, 
where  he  could  creep  closer  to  his  quarry  before 
leaping  from  cover. 

"  The  damned  sneak !  "  growled  Blake.  "  You 
there,  Jenny  ?  " 

She  could  not  speak,  but  he  heard  her  gasp. 

"  Brace  up,  little  woman  !  Where  's  your  grit? 
You're  out  of  this  deal,  anyway.  He'll  choke 
to  death  swallowing  me  —  But  say ;  could  n't 
you  manage  to  shin  up  a  palm,  twenty  feet  or  so, 
and  hang  on  for  a  couple  of  minutes  ?  " 

"I  —  can't  move  —  I  am  —  " 

"  Make  a  try !  It  '11  give  me  a  run  for  my 
money.  I  '11  take  the  next  elevator  after  you. 
That  '11  bring  the  bluffer  out  on  the  hot-foot.  I 
slip  a  surprise  between  his  ribs,  and  we  view  the 
scenery  while  he 's  passing  in  his  checks.  Come  ; 

[304  ] 


A     LION     LEADS    THEM 

make  a  spurt !  He 's  around  the  turn,  and  getting 
nearer  every  step." 

"  I  can't  —  Tom,  —  there  is  no  need  that  both 
of  us  —  You  climb  up  —  " 

He  turned  about  as  the  meaning  of  her  whisper 
dawned  upon  him.  Her  eyes  were  shining  with 
the  ecstasy  of  self-sacrifice.  It  was  only  the 
glance  of  an  instant ;  then  he  was  again  facing 
the  jungle. 

"  God !     You  think  I  'd  do  that ! " 

She  made  no  reply.  There  was  a  pause.  Blake 
—  crouched  on  one  knee,  tense  and  alert  — 
waited  until  the  sinister  wave  was  advancing 
into  the  point  of  the  incurved  jungle.  Then  he 
spoke,  in  a  low,  even  tone :  "  Feel  if  my  glass  is 
there." 

Her  hand  reached  around  and  pressed  against 
the  fob  pocket  which  he  had  sewn  in  the  belt  of 
his  skin  trousers. 

"  Right.  Now  slip  my  club  up  under  my 
elbow  —  big  end.  Lick  on  the  nose  '11  stop  a 
dog  or  a  bull.  It 's  a  chance." 

She  thrust  the  club  under  his  right  elbow,  and 
he  gripped  it  against  his  side. 

At  that  moment  the  lion  bounded  from  cover, 

with  a  roar  like  a  clap  of  thunder.     Blake  sprang 

erect.     The   beast   checked   himself    in   the   act 

of  leaping,  and  crouched   with   his   great  paws 

«o  305 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

outstretched,  every  hooked  claw  thrust  out,  ready 
to  tear  and  mangle.  In  two  or  three  bounds  he 
could  have  leaped  upon  Blake  and  crushed  him 
with  a  single  stroke  of  his  paw.  As  he  rose  to 
repeat  his  deafening  roar,  it  seemed  to  Blake  that 
he  stood  higher  than  a  horse  —  that  his  mouth 
gaped  wide  as  the  end  of  a  hogshead.  And  yet 
the  beast  stood  hesitating,  restrained  by  brute 
dread  of  the  unknown.  Never  before  had  any 
animal  that  he  had  hunted  reared  up  to  meet  his 
attack  in  this  strange  manner. 

"Lie  flat!"  commanded  Blake;  "lie  flat,  and 
don't  move  !  I  'm  going  to  call  his  bluff.  Keep 
still  till  the  poison  gets  in  its  work.  I  '11  keep 
him  busy  long  as  I  can.  When  it 's  over,  hit  out 
for  home  along  the  beach.  Keep  inside  the  bar 
ricade,  and  watch  all  you  can  from  the  cliffs. 
Might  light  a  fire  up  there  nights.  There  's  sure 
to  be  a  steamer  before  long  —  " 

"  Tom  !  "  she  cried,  struggling  to  her  knees,  - 
"  Tom ! " 

But  he  did  not  pause  or  look  around.  He  was 
beginning  to  circle  slowly  to  the  left  across  the 
open  ground,  in  a  spiral  curve  that  would  bring 
him  to  the  edge  of  the  jungle  within  thirty  yards 
of  the  lion.  There  was  red  now  showing  in  his 
eyes.  His  hair  was  bristling,  no  longer  with  fear, 
but  with  sheer  brute  fury ;  his  lips  were  drawn 

[  306] 


A    LION     LEADS    THEM 

back  from  the  clenched  teeth ;  his  nostrils  dis 
tended  and  quivering ;  his  forehead  wrinkled  like 
that  of  an  angry  mastiff.  His  look  was  more 
ferocious  than  that  of  the  snarling  beast  he  faced. 
All  the  primeval  in  him  was  roused.  He  was 
become  a  man  of  the  Cave  Age.  He  went  to 
meet  death,  his  mind  and  body  aflame  with 
fierce  lust  to  kill. 

The  lion  stilled  his  roars,  and  crouched  as  if 
to  spring,  snarling  and  grinning  with  rage  and 
uncertainty.  His  eyes,  unaccustomed  to  the 
glare  of  the  mid-day  sun,  blinked  incessantly, 
though  he  followed  the  man's  every  movement, 
his  snarls  deepening  into  growls  at  the  slightest 
change  of  attitude. 

In  his  blind  animal  rage,  Blake  had  forgotten 
that  the  purpose  of  his  lateral  advance  was  to 
place  as  great  a  distance  as  possible  between  him 
and  the  girl  before  the  clash.  Yet  instinct  kept 
him  moving  along  his  spiral  course,  on  the  chance 
that  he  might  catch  his  foe  off  his  guard. 

Suddenly  the  lion  half  rose  and  stretched 
forward,  sniffing.  There  was  an  uneasy  whining 
note  in  his  growls.  Blake  let  the  club  slip  from 
beneath  his  arm,  and  drew  his  bow  until  the 
arrow-head  lay  upon  his  thumb.  His  outstretched 
arm  was  rigid  as  a  bar  of  steel.  So  tense  and 
alert  were  all  his  nerves  that  he  knew  he  could 

[307] 


INTO    THE     PRIMITIVE 

drive  home  both  arrows,  and  still  have  time  to 
swing  his  club  before  the  beast  was  upon  him. 

A  puff  of  wind  struck  against  his  back,  and 
swept  on  to  the  nostrils  of  the  lion,  laden  with  the 
odor  of  man.  The  beast  uttered  a  short,  startled 
roar,  and  whirling  about,  leaped  away  into  the 
jungle  so  quickly  that  Blake's  arrow  flashed  past 
a  full  yard  behind. 

The  second  arrow  was  on  the  string  before  the 
first  had  struck  the  ground.  But  the  lion  had 
vanished  in  the  grass.  With  a  yell,  Blake  dashed 
on  across  to  the  nearest  point  of  the  jungle.  As 
he  ran,  he  drew  the  burning-glass  from  his  fob, 
and  flipped  it  open,  ready  for  use.  If  the  lion 
had  turned  behind  the  sheltering  grass  stems, 
he  was  too  cowardly  to  charge  out  again.  Within 
a  minute  the  jungle  border  was  a  wall  of  roaring 
flame. 

The  grass,  long  since  dead,  and  bone-dry  with 
the  days  of  tropical  sunshine  since  the  cyclone, 
flared  up  before  the  wind  like  gunpowder.  Even 
against  the  wind  the  fire  ate  its  way  along  the 
"•round  with  fearful  rapidity,  trailing  behind  it  an 
upwhirling  vortex  of  smoke  and  flame.  No  living 
creature  could  have  burst  through  that  belt  of 
fire. 

A  wave  of  fierce  heat  sent  Blake  staggering 
back,  scorched  and  blistered.  There  was  no 

[  308  ] 


A    LION     LEADS     THEM 

exultance  in  his  bearing.  For  the  moment  all 
thought  of  the  lion  was  swallowed  up  in  awe  of 
his  own  work.  He  stared  at  the  hell  of  leaping, 
roaring  flames  from  beneath  his  upraised  arm. 
To  the  north  sparks  and  lighted  wisps  of  grass 
driven  by  the  gale  had  already  fired  the  jungle 
half  way  to  the  farther  ridge. 

Step  by  step  Blake  drew  back.  His  heel 
struck  against  something  soft.  He  looked  down, 
and  saw  Miss  Leslie  lying  on  the  sand,  white 
and  still.  She  had  fainted,  overcome  by  fear  or 
by  the  unendurable  heat.  The  heat  must  have 
stupefied  him  as  well.  He  stared  at  her,  dull- 
eyed,  wondering  if  she  was  dead.  His  brain 
cleared.  He  sprang  over  to  where  the  flask  lay 
beside  the  remnants  of  the  lunch. 

He  was  dashing  the  last  drops  of  the  tepid 
water  in  her  face,  when  she  moaned,  and  her 
eyelids  began  to  flutter.  He  flung  down  the 
flask,  and  fell  to  chafing  her  wrist. 

"  Tom  ! "  she  moaned. 

"Yes,  Miss  Jenny,  I'm  here.  It's  all  right," 
he  answered. 

"  Have  I  had  a  sunstroke  I  Is  that  why  it 
seems  so  —  I  can  hardly  breathe  —  " 

"It's  all  right,  I  tell  you.  Only  a  little  bon 
fire  I  touched  off.  Guess  you  must  have  fainted, 
but  it 's  all  right  now." 

[  S09] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

"  It  was  silly  of  me  to  faint.  But  when  I  saw 
that  dreadful  thing  leap  —  "  She  faltered,  and 
lay  shuddering.  Fearful  that  she  was  about  to 
swoon  again,  Blake  slapped  her  hand  between 
his  palms  with  stinging  force. 

"You're  it!"  he  shouted.  "The  joke's  on 
you  !  Kitty  jumped  just  the  other  way,  and  he 
won't  come  back  in  a  hurry  with  that  fire  to 
head  him  off.  Jump  up  now,  and  we  '11  do  a  jig 
on  the  strength  of  it." 

She  attempted  a  smile,  and  a  trace  of  color 
showed  in  her  cheeks.  With  an  idea  that  action 
would  further  her  recovery,  he  drew  her  to  a 
sitting  position,  stepped  quickly  behind,  and, 
with  his  hands  beneath  her  elbows,  lifted  her 
upright.  But  she  was  still  too  weak  and  giddy 
to  stand  alone.  As  he  released  his  grip,  she 
swayed  and  would  have  fallen  had  he  not  caught 
her  arm. 

"  Steady  !  "  he  admonished.  "  Brace  up ;  you  're 
all  right." 

"  I  'in  —  I  'm  just  a  little  dizzy,"  she  murmured, 
clinging  to  his  shoulder.  "  It  will  pass  in  a  min 
ute.  It's  so  silly,  but  I'm  that  way  —  Tom, 
I  —  I  think  you  are  the  bravest  man  — 

"  Yes,  yes  —  but  that 's  not  the  point.  Leave 
go  now,  like  a  sensible  girl.  It 's  about  time  to 
hit  the  trail." 

[310] 


A    LION     LEADS     THEM 

He  drew  himself  free,  and  without  a  glance 
at  her  blushing-  face,  began  to  gather  up  their 
scattered  outfit.  His  hat  lay  where  he  had 
weighted  it  down  with  the  cocoanut.  He  tossed 
the  nut  into  the  skin  bag,  and  jammed  the  hat  on 
his  head,  pulling  the  brim  far  down  over  his  eyes. 
When  he  had  fetched  his  club,  he  walked  back 
past  the  girl,  with  his  eyes  averted. 

"  Come  on,"  he  muttered. 

The  scarlet  in  the  girl's  cheeks  swept  over  her 
whole  face  in  a  burning  wave,  which  ebbed  slowly 
and  left  her  colorless.  Blake  had  started  off  with 
out  a  backward  glance.  She  gazed  about  with  a 
bewildered  look  at  the  palms  and  the  barren  ridge 
and  the  fiery  tidal  wave  of  flame.  Her  gaze  came 
back  to  Blake,  and  she  followed  him. 

Within  a  short  distance  she  found  herself  out 
of  the  sheltering  lee  of  the  ridge.  The  first  wind- 
gust  almost  overthrew  her.  She  could  never  have 
walked  against  such  a  gale ;  but  with  the  wind 
at  her  back  she  was  buoyed  up  and  borne  along 
as  though  on  wings.  Her  sole  effort  was  to  keep 
her  foothold.  Had  it  been  their  morning  trip, 
she  could  have  cried  out  with  joy  and  skipped 
along  before  the  gusts  like  a  school-girl.  Now 
she  walked  as  soberly  as  the  wind  would  permit, 
and  took  care  not  to  lessen  the  distance  between 
herself  and  Blake. 

[311] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

Mile  by  mile  they  hastened  back  across  the 
plain,  —  on  their  right  the  blue  sea  of  water,  with 
its  white-caps  and  spray ;  on  their  left  the  yellow 
sea  of  fire,  with  its  dun  fog  of  smoke. 

Once  only  had  Blake  looked  back  to  see  if  the 
girl  was  following.  After  that  he  swung  along, 
with  down-bent  head,  his  gaze  upon  the  ground. 
Even  when  he  passed  in  under  the  grove  and 
around  the  pool  to  the  foot  of  the  cleft,  he  began 
the  ascent  without  waiting  to  assist  her  up  the 
break  in  the  path.  The  girl  came  after,  her  lips 
firm,  her  eyes  bright  and  expectant.  She  drew 
herself  up  the  ledge  as  though  she  had  been 
bred  to  mountain  climbing. 

Inside  the  barricade  Blake  was  waiting  to  close 
the  opening.  She  crept  through,  and  rose  to 
catch  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Tom,  look  at  me,"  she  said.  "  Once  I  was 
most  unjust  to  you  in  my  thoughts.  I  wronged 
you.  Now  I  must  tell  you  that  I  think  you  are 
the  bravest  —  the  noblest  man  —  " 

"  Get  away !  "  he  exclaimed,  and  he  shook  off 
her  hand  roughly.  "  Don't  be  a  fool !  You  don't 
know  what  you  're  talking  about." 

"  But  I  do,  Tom.     I  believe  that  you  are  —  " 

"  I  'm  a  blackguard  —  do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  No  blackguard  is  brave.  The  way  you  faced 
that  terrible  beast  —  " 

[312] 


A    LION    LEADS    THEM 

"  Yes,  blackguard  —  to  've  gone  and  shown  to 
you  that  I  —  to  've  let  you  say  a  single  word  — 
Can't  you  see  !  Even  if  I  'm  not  what  you  call  a 
gentleman,  I  thought  I  knew  how  any  man  ought 
to  treat  a  woman  —  but  to  go  and  let  you  know, 
before  we  'd  got  back  among  people  !  " 

"  But  —  but,  Tom,  why  not,  if  we  —  " 

"  No  !  "  he  retorted  harshly.  "  I  'm  going  now 
to  pile  up  wood  on  the  cliff  for  a  beacon  fire.  In 
the  morning  I  '11  start  making  that  catamaran  —  " 

"  No,  you  shall  not  —  You  shall  not  go  off, 
and  leave  me,  and  —  and  risk  your  life  !  I  can't 
bear  to  think  of  it !  Stay  with  me,  Tom  —  dear ! 
Even  if  a  ship  never  came  —  " 

He  turned  resolutely,  so  as  not  to  see  her 
blushing  face. 

"  Come  now,  Miss  Leslie,"  he  said  in  a  dry, 
even  tone ;  "  don't  make  it  so  awfully  hard. 
Let's  be  sensible,  and  shake  hands  on  it,  like 
two  real  comrades  —  " 

She  struck  frantically  at  his  outstretched  hand. 

"  Keep  away  —  I  hate  you  !  "  she  cried. 

Before  he  could  speak,  she  was  running  up  the 
cleft. 


[813] 


CHAPTER  XXV 
IN  DOUBLE  SALTATION 

WHEN,  an  hour  or  more  after  dawn  the 
next  morning,  the  girl  slowly  drew 
open  her  door  and  came  out  of  the 
cave,  Blake  was  nowhere  in  sight.     She  sighed, 
vastly  relieved,  and  hastened  across  to  bathe  her 
flushed  face  in  the  spring.     Stopping  every  few 
moments  to  listen  for  his  step  down  the  cleft,  she 
gathered  up  a  hamper  of  food  and  fled  to  the 
tree-ladder. 

As  she  drew  herself  up  on  the  cliff,  she  noticed 
a  thin  column  of  smoke  rising  from  the  last 
smouldering  brands  of  a  beacon  fire  that  had  been 
built  in  the  midst  of  the  bird  colony,  on  the  ex 
treme  outer  edge  of  the  headland.  She  did  not, 
however,  observe  that,  while  the  smoke  column 
streamed  up  from  the  fire  directly  skyward,  be 
yond  it  there  was  a  much  larger  volume  of  smoke, 
which  seemed  to  have  eddied  down  the  cliff  face 
and  was  now  rolling  up  into  view  from  out  over 
the  sea.  She  gave  no  heed  to  this,  for  the  sight 
of  the  beacon  had  instantly  alarmed  her  with  the 

[314] 


IN     DOUBLE    SALVATION 

possibility  that  Blake  was  still  on  the  headland, 
and  would  imagine  that  she  was  seeking  him. 

She  paused,  her  cheeks  aflame.  But  the  only 
sign  of  Blake  that  she  could  see  was  the  fire  itself. 
She  reflected  that  he  might  very  well  have  left 
before  dawn.  As  likely  as  not,  he  had  descended 
at  the  north  end  of  the  cleft,  and  had  gone  off  to 
the  river  to  start  his  catamaran.  At  the  thought 
all  the  color  ebbed  from  her  cheeks  and  left  her 
white  and  trembling.  Again  she  stood  hesitating. 
With  a  sigh  she  started  on  toward  the  signal  staff. 

She  was  close  upon  the  border  of  the  bird  col 
ony,  when  Blake  sat  up  from  behind  a  ledge,  and 
she  found  herself  staring  into  his  blinking  eyes. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  mumbled  drowsily.  He  sprang 
up,  wide  awake,  and  flushing  with  the  guilty  con 
sciousness  of  what  he  had  done.  "  Look  at  the 
sun  —  way  up !  Did  n't  mean  to  oversleep,  Miss 
Leslie.  You  see  I  was  up  pretty  late,  tending  the 
beacon.  But  of  course  that 's  no  excuse  —  " 

"  Don't !  "  she  exclaimed.  There  were  tears  in 
her  eyes;  yet  she  smiled  as  she  spoke.  "I  know 
what  you  mean  by  ( pretty  late.'  You  Ve  been 
up  all  night." 

"  No,  I  have  n't.     Not  all  night—  " 

"  To  be  sure !  I  quite  understand,  Mr.  Thomas 
Blake  !  .  .  .  Now,  sit  down,  and  eat  this  luncheon." 

"  Can't.  Have  n't  time.  I  've  got  to  get  to  the 
[315] 


INTO     THE     PRIMITIVE 

river  and  set  to  work.     I  '11  get  some  jerked  beef 
and  eat  it  on  the  way.     You  see  —  " 

"  Tom  !  "  she  protested. 

"  It 's  for  you,"  he  rejoined,  and  his  lips  closed 
together  resolutely. 

He  was  stepping  past  her,  when  over  the  sea 
ward  edge  of  the  cliff  there  came  a  sound  like  the 
yell  of  a  raging  sea-monster. 

"  Siren  !  "  shouted  Blake,  whirling  about. 

The  cloud  of  smoke  beyond  the  cliff  end  was 
now  rolling  up  more  to  the  left.  He  dashed  away 
towards  the  north  edge  of  the  cliff  as  though  he 
intended  to  leap  off  into  space.  The  girl  ran 
after  him  as  fast  as  she  could  over  the  loose 
stones.  Before  she  had  covered  half  the  distance 
she  saw  him  halt  on  the  very  brink  of  the  cliff, 
and  begin  to  wave  and  shout  like  a  madman.  A 
few  steps  farther  on  she  caught  sight  of  the 
steamer.  It  was  lying  close  in,  only  a  little  way 
off  the  north  point  of  the  headland. 

Even  as  she  saw  the  vessel,  its  siren  responded 
to  Blake's  wild  gestures  with  a  series  of  joyous 
screams.  There  could  be  no  mistake.  He  had 
been  seen.  Already  they  were  letting  go  anchor, 
and  there  was  a  little  crowd  of  men  gathering 
about  one  of  the  boats.  Blake  turned  and  started 
on  a  run  for  the  cliff.  But  Miss  Leslie  darted 
before  him,  compelling  him  to  halt. 

[316] 


IN     DOUBLE    SALVATION 

"Wait!"  she  cried,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
happy  tears.  "  Tom,  it 's  come  now.  You 
needn't—-" 

"  Let  me  by !  I  'm  going  to  meet  them.  I 
want  to  —  " 

But  she  put  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Tom !  "  she  whispered,  "  let  it  be  now,  before 
any  one  —  anything  can  possibly  come  between 
us !  Let  it  be  a  part  of  our  life  here  —  here, 
where  I  've  learned  how  brave  and  true  a  real 
man  can  be  !  " 

"  And  then  have  him  prove  himself  a  sneak ! " 
he  cried.  "  No  ;  I  won't,  Jenny  !  I  've  got  you 
to  think  of.  Wait  till  I've  seen  your  father. 
Ten  to  one,  he  '11  not  hear  of  it  —  he  '11  cut  you 
off  without  a  cent.  Not  but  what  I'd  be  glad 
myself;  but  you're  used  to  luxuries,  girlie,  and 
I  'm  a  poor  man.  I  can't  give  them  to  you  —  " 

She  laid  a  hand  on  his  mouth,  and  smiled  up 
at  him  in  tender  mockery. 

"  Come,  now,  Mr.  Blake;  you're  not  very 
complimentary.  After  surviving  my  cooking  all 
these  weeks,  don't  you  think  I  might  do,  at  a 
pinch,  for  a  poor  man's  wife  ?  " 

"  No,  Jenny ! "  he  protested,  trying  to  draw 
back.  "  You  ought  n't  to  decide  now.  When 
you  get  back  among  your  friends,  things  may 
look  different.  Think  of  your  society  friends ! 

[317J 


INTO    THE    PRIMITIVE 

Wait  till  you  see  me  with  other  inen  —  gentle 
men  !  I  'm  just  a  rough,  uncultured,  ordi 
nary —  " 

"  Hush ! "  she  cried,  and  she  again  placed  her 
hand  on  his  mouth.  "  You  sha'n't  say  such  cruel 
things  about  Tom  —  my  Tom  —  the  man  I  trust 
—  that  I  - 

Her  arms  slipped  about  his  neck,  and  her  eyes 
shone  up  into  his  with  tender  radiance. 

"  Don't !  "  he  begged  hoarsely.  "  'T  ain't  fair ! 
I  —  I  can't  stand  it !  " 

"  The  man  I  love  !  "  she  whispered. 

He  crushed  her  to  him  in  his  great  arms. 

"  My  little  girl !  —  dear  little  girl !  "  he  repeated, 
and  he  pressed  his  lips  to  her  hair. 

She  snuggled  her  face  closer  against  his  shoul 
der,  and  replied  in  a  very  small  voice,  "I  — 
I  suppose  you  know  that  ship  captains  can 
m-marry  people." 

"  But  I  have  n't  even  a  job  yet !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Suppose  your  father  —  " 

"  Please  listen ! "  she  pleaded.  There  was  a 
sound  like  suppressed  sobbing. 

"What  is  it?"  he  ventured,  and  he  listened, 
greatly  perturbed.  The  muffled  voice  sounded 
very  meek  and  plaintive:  "I'll  try  to  do  my 
part,  Mr.  Blake,  —  really  I  will !  I  —  I  hope  we 
can  manage  to  struggle  along  —  somehow.  You 

[318] 


IN     DOUBLE     SALVATION 

know,  I  have  a  little  of  my  own.  It 's  only  three 
—  three  million ;  but  —  " 

"What!"  he  demanded,  and  he  held  her  out 
at  arm's  length,  to  stare  at  her  in  frowning  be 
wilderment.  "If  I'd  known  that,  I'd  —  " 

"  You  'd  never  have  given  me  a  chance  to  —  to 
propose  to  you,  you  dear  old  silly ! "  she  cried, 
her  eyes  dancing  with  tender  mirth.  "  See 
here ! " 

She  turned  from  him,  and  back  again,  and  held 
up  a  withered,  crumpled  flower.  He  looked,  and 
saw  that  it  was  the  amaryllis  blossom. 

"You  — kept  it!" 

"Because  —  because,  even  then,  down  in  the 
bottom  of  my  heart,  I  had  begun  to  realize  —  to 
know  what  you  were  like  —  and  of  course  that 
meant  —  Tom,  tell  me !  Do  you  think  I  'm 
utterly  shameless  ?  Do  you  blame  me  for  being 
the  one  to  —  to  —  " 

"  Blame  you !  "  he  cried.  He  paused  to  put  a 
finger  under  her  chin  and  raise  her  down-bent 
face.  His  eyes  were  very  blue,  but  there  was  a 
twinkle  in  their  depths.  "  Oh,  yes ;  it  was  dread 
ful,  wasn't  it?  But  I  guess  I've  no  complaint 
to  file  just  now." 

THE    END 


A     000120079     9 


